Forgotten
by Souptastick
Summary: A secondary Ashen One's point of view, staged from the beginning. The story will develop, hitting most of the main points, and then taking liberties with side quests or events. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Feel free to leave comments and suggestions. I only recently started writing, and do this in my spare time between work, etc.

Thanks for reading!

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The fire lazily crackled, as she watched with half-lidded eyes, from above.

Her memories had been stripped. Nothing was familiar, yet she could not remember what was. She had awoken to darkness, the feeling of claustrophobia clouding her senses. She clawed, screaming, at stone above her…tears streaming down her cheeks.

She had not known how long her nightmare had lasted, until the moment arrived that she came to, hearing the gritty sound of stone moving. Her eyes squinted, blinded by the low light from her endless torment in the dark. A vague silhouette of a figure etched itself in her mind.

It had disappeared, once her vision had fully returned. She eased her weary body through the newly made opening, finding herself crawling on soil. She laughed and cried, all at once, taking a handful of the dirt in her hands.

She looked up. It was dawn, or dusk, she could not tell. Around her large cliffs jetted into the sky, blocking the horizon all around her. The landscape was irregular, giving the impression as though she was within a mountain ravine.

Near her were numerous tombs. They appeared ancient and weathered…forgotten. She turned around, and staggered away, in shock, trembling.

She had been buried alive.

Tears emerged again, and she found herself openly weeping. It was a nightmare. It was hell.

She stared at her prison for a while, contemplating what her next action should be. She looked down at her naked form. It felt…odd, as though she should be covered, yet could not remember why or in what.

In the distance, she noticed a break in the cliffs, where more the sunlight poured in. She decided to make her way towards it. Shakily, she rose to her feet, using a nearby tree root for support. How long had it been since she had stood?

Muscle memory returned, and she found herself taking small steps forward, down a small hill. The flattened area was flooded with water, which stopped below her knees.

She looked to her left, noticing a body in front of a broken reservoir of sorts. The stone cliffs opened into a larger area. On the sides were, what appeared to be, remnants of an old ruins. Where was she?

Cautiously, she made her way to the body. Was this a person, like her, lost? She knelt next to them, reaching out to shake them awake. No movement. Were they…

She saw a dark, red puddle, that surrounded them. She shifted the body over, and saw large stab wounds in their chest.

Murdered.

Their face had been distorted…almost skeletal. It unnerved her, the entirety of the situation. This person…they didn't seem, human, yet they had bled.

She propped them back up over the cracked basin, and continued forward. A chill crept over her bare spine, as an ominous breeze swept through the ravine. Eventually, her feet found dry ground again, and she could see a brightness from a smaller pathway in the narrow cliff edges.

She passed another corpse, the blood having dried sometime before. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, kneeling over the body to remove its clothes. Was it sacrilege? She did not know, but her aching, cold bones craved warmth.

She put the tattered garment over her torso, noting the smell of death that lingered. A nightmare, it could be nothing less. Shame washed over her, as she looked upon the naked, murdered corpse.

Her instinct for survival kicked in, and she pressed onwards, stepping out onto the edge of a cliff. She gasped; it was beautiful. The setting sun casted warm glows across the land. Mountains and low valleys were scattered all before her. To her left, was a large, grey structure.

More corpses littered the trail. What did all this? Were one of these poor people her savior? The thought saddened her, as she peeked through a large entrance, into a rotunda.

There was a fire in the middle, slowly burning over a pile of ashes. Pieces of bone could be seen poking out, mixed within the white dust. To the left was a large mass of black. She avoided it, keeping to the right along the edge. The blackness appeared to still shimmer. It felt dangerous. A word flashed in her head: consumed.

She moved forward, through another entranceway, seeing a large building up a steep hill. Tree roots, graves, and rubble surrounded her. It looked like this ground, all if it, was falling. As though sections of it had broken off during an earthquake.

She felt the smooth stone underneath, and kept to the right wall, as she entered the, seemingly, abandoned ruins.

Before her was a large amphitheater, with giant, stone thrones lining the right, inner circular portion. At the base was the small, dimly burning fire…

A shuffle snapped her from her thoughts. The firekeeper had moved. She was seated upon some of the stone steps, that rose diagonally, and over, the lower entranceway. The echoing madness of the blacksmith's hammer resumed.

She had…hidden herself; preferring to watch from the shadows. In fact, her presence had gone, mostly, unnoticed by the inhabitants. Perched within a recess on the upper level, she observed the occasional interactions below. The firekeeper was a beautiful, fragile woman…donned in black, embroidered dress, and crowned with a silver ornate mask, which covered her eyes.

A man sat near the entrance, next to a pillar…a shield propped up against one of his bent legs. He wore armor similar to chainmail, spending his time gazing blankly at the fire. In the distance, the bare-chested blacksmith continued his repetitious strikes. She had caught a glimpse of an old woman, clothed in dusty robes, sitting within a recess of the interconnecting hallway.

If there were more, she did not know. She felt almost as though she didn't belong, but where would she go? She couldn't even remember who she was.

The fire started to brighten, and the flames increases. She saw the beautiful firekeeper stand up. A figure appeared, ghostly at first, then solidifying.

They were cladded in shining, steel armor, which hid any trace of the person inside. On their left arm was a tall, silver shield. In their right hand, a sword, roughly three feet in length. It was like a knight, out of a medieval fairy tale.

A sharp pain flared in her head, and she put her palms over her eyes, curling up. An image flashed: bright lights…rain.

She breathed in and out a few times, coming to her senses. She looked back where the knight had been. He was gone. The firekeeper had returned to her previous position.

The fire intrigued her. Was it a portal? She looked around the ancient temple. Silence prevailed, once again, and the familiar pounding echoed. She made the decision to reveal herself, as curiosity overtook her fear. Slowly, she crawled out, and straightened herself.

The man by the pillar paid no notice, or simply did not care. She proceeded down the right, following the descending stairs. She noticed one of the thrones on her left, possessing a thick, wet covering. It made her shutter.

Her steps were quiet, and inaudible. She neared the firekeeper, keeping a distance. Suddenly, the ornate mask snapped towards her. The beautiful woman stood up.

"Another Ashen One…"

She backed up against the wall, terror on her face. The firekeeper walked towards her.

"You are not chosen, yet…"

The firekeeper's delicate fingers wrapped around her dirty hands.

"I will still assist thee, Ashen One. Do not fear."

She heard a menacing chuckle.

"Another fool…oh, what have we done to deserve this entertainment?"

She glanced up at the man with a shield. He had narrowed his eyes on her, a malicious smirk plastered on his face.

"Fear? You will not survive long here, I'm afraid…it matters not though."

He turned back to the fire.

The fire, it once again, beckoned her. She let her hand slip from the firekeeper's grasp, as she cautiously made her way towards it, her eyes fixated on her goal. A sword, ancient, rose from the center…the flames caressing its entirety. Her body craved to get closer, and before she knew it, her hand was reaching out, touching the hot hilt.

She expected to be burned, but what happened shocked her. Her vision became clouded in a brightness, and her body felt as though it was bathed in ecstasy. She closed her eyes, reveling in this divine feeling. The brightness faded, and she slowly opened them, stepping away from the lazily burning fire. Looking down, she noticed that her hands had been cleaned. Her legs, arms…all the dirt, scratches, and cuts…gone.

A slow clapping resonated from above, and she startled.

"So the skittish mouse finally emerges." A man dressed in lavish, elegant attire of a roguish nature, looked down upon her. His face was hidden behind a mask of silver, shaded under a large, black hat.

She went to respond, but found that she was unable to make a noise. Had she forgotten speech? Had she ever been able to speak? She placed her hands on her throat, panicked.

"Does our mouse have no voice? Tsk, tsk…such a pity." A mocking chuckle could be heard, as she watched the man position himself against the base of the highest throne. She turned to see that the firekeeper had also returned to her seat upon the decayed stone steps.

Ash coated the decrepit temple, and flickered in the dim sunlight that persisted from outside. The sun rose nor set; time was still. The clinking of the blacksmith's hammer arose from the inner passageway. She headed towards it, noting the old woman on her right.

"Ashen One, does thou seek wares? One must possess souls first, mmm? Heh, heh…"

She pressed her hand on the side of her temple. The pain still lingered from earlier. The pounding of metal, painful yet captivating. A man, covered in muscles and sweat, was bent over and anvil. His long, white hair, held partially back from his face. He stopped mid swing, and glanced up at her.

"Another newcomer. I am but a humble smith, in service to this shrine. You're in search of the Lords as Cinder, as well?"

She looked at him confused, slowly shaking her head. Lords of Cinder? She mouthed the words in a mute silence, placing her hand over her throat.

The bear of a man chuckled. "No not trouble yourself so. Ye will still require good arms, eh? Let me smith yer weapons and armor. I am a smith, such is my purpose."

He put down his hammer, and partially waddled to a chest against the wall. She patiently remained in her spot, curious as to what was going to happen. She heard items clink, and some articles appeared next to him on the ground.

Something metallic flashed, and he shut the chest lid with a loud thud, which resonated between the walls of the forge. He scooped up the items, the turned, sticking his arms out, and motioning towards her with his head.

"Here girl, these be extras. The fella before you brought them…and while I don't need em, I felt obliged to trade with 'im."

She smiled, and reached out, carefully feeling the fabric of what he offered. It was a faded black, and thick, cloth; interwoven with pieces of black leather. On the right shoulder was a metal covering. Faded black trousers, gloves, and boots also were in his arms. Course, brown thread ran along the seams in a gaudy attempt to hold the various materials together.

"Put it on girl, and I'll fit it for ye."

Andre turned his back, going back towards his anvil. She lifted her tattered garb over her head, and let it drop on the ground. She first slipped the pants on, finding them way too loose. The top part proved tricky, and had side laces on the internal pieces, to provide chest support as needed. The outer shell hung past her hands, and down to mid thighs. It was meant to be unisex in design, and adjustable.

She tapped the old man on the shoulder, and he turned around, allowing a warm chuckle to escape his lips. He picked up a bone tool and thread, and started adjusting it.

Sometime later, she found herself fully clothed. Andre had mentioned that it was common wear for assassins, which had caused her to silently chuckle. Such an incredulous thing…

He walked to the other side of his workshop, sifting through various weapons stacked to the side. He scratched his chin, strafing his eyes from left to right, before settling upon something.

"Aha!" He bent over and pulled up a t-shaped object, half wood, half metal.

"This be a crossbow. It's decent for sniping. I get a feelin yer not too adept with combat?" A bushy white eyebrow raised in question. She shook her head.

"Aye, well here my girl. This doesn't take much skill, and will help ye survive. Lock a bolt in this chamber, pull back, aim, and fire. Prithee be careful, don't want to see me work squandered." With that he tossed her the crossbow and a bag of bolts. Turning back to his anvil, he picked up his hammer and started his rhythmic pounding.

A crossbow? She…knew, what this was. A sharp pain, and she put her palm over her right eye. It did not feel familiar in her hands, though. She would need to practice. The thought then dawned on her. It was assumed she would need to defend herself, to kill, someone else.

She looked at the weapon on her hand, noticing the tedious engravings etched throughout the metal and wood. Some hair fell in her field of vision. A dark auburn color glowed in the forge light. She tucked it back behind her ears, and slid it under the hood. A cloth was given to her, to cover most of her face, as well. She had not the faintest indication as to what her physical features were. Her reflection would be no different than a stranger's.

Her eyes wandered back to the small bonfire of ash and bone, in the central room. Easing her way there, neither women made an attempt to communicate. It was for the best. She looked to the right, noticing that the man with the shield was gone.

"Our little mouse fancies herself a fighter, I see. What else are unkindled ashes good for?" The masked man had appeared behind her, leaning up against the side of the lower passageway's stone frame. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and his left leg bent slightly.

His attire appeared to be well made. Embroidery lined the seams of his outer cloak. He wore boots which came up to mid-thigh. His right hand possessed an ornate, metal glove. The silver mask caught the bonfire light, as he tilted his head.

He reached into a satchel on the side of his hip, under the overcoat. "Perhaps, there is another purpose you seek. Here, these red orbs are for you." He reached out, offering her what was in his enclosed hand. She gave him a weary look, only her eyes visible under her new garb.

A chuckle came from the mask. "Fear not, little mouse. This shrine is a place of respite." He winked at her through the eye holes of the silver mask. She cautiously stepped forward, slowly lifting her arm out, and barely touching the underneath of his enclosed, left hand.

His right arm suddenly shot out, gripping her outstretched hand. She yelped. Her voice echoing in the great chamber. The firekeeper glanced at them.

He held her hand, gripping her wrist firmly, but not harsh. He slowly released pressure, and slid his hand underneath her knuckles. "Ah…so you do have a voice, as much as I thought. Sometimes, things need only a simple nudge…"

He rubbed his thumb across her open palm, then let go of the items from his left hand. Small chunks of red stone appeared. She leaned in with an inquisitive stare. They felt…ominous.

She glanced back up to the masked man. He still held her outstretched hand, his eyes intense. They were a sky blue. Within the small openings of the mask she could see portions of the reddened skin around them.

Remember…

"What…are they?"

Her voice shocked her a little. How had she forgotten something so natural? It seemed to not belong. Her apparent accent feeling like an affront to the shrine she found herself in.

"Use them…to invade…to pillage…to plunder. You seek embers to grow in strength. It is our nature, is it not?"

She looked down at the crossbow she held in her other hand. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"No…I do not believe my nature was that. This weapon, this…place. The entirety of things. None are familiar. As to what my nature will become…I do not know."

He rubbed her palm again with his thumb. His eyes gazed into hers with a softened stare. "Who would have thought that our meek mouse had such a beautiful squeak to her…"

He reached towards her face, catching some of her reddish hair with his fingers. He twisted the strands slightly, then moved closer, tucking them back under her hood.

"Be careful. The cats are anxious to play." He lowered his hands, releasing his grip, then walked past her, confidently scaling the ruined steps, back to his previous position by the highest throne. The smell of leather and spice lingered.

She looked at the red stones, and put them in a satchel on the side of her outer shirt. She was not entirely confident she should be using anything that the man offered her. His motivations were…questionable. She found him intriguing, though.

Her eyes narrowed on the dim, bonfire in front of her. What was her goal? She could not remember where she came from, and therefore, had nowhere to go. Did it even matter?

She reached her hand out, slipping her fingers around the hilt. The revitalizing sensation rushed over her senses, and she closed her eyes again.

An image pushed itself forward; hazy at first, but gradually becoming clearer. Her eyes blinked, as the swirling ash stung them. Eventually, she found herself kneeling upon smooth, stone floor.

She looked around; she was in a different location. A small, circular chamber of sorts. Recesses, with various items, all in ruins, dotted the outer walls. The bonfire was gone.

In front of her were two wooden doors, already opened wide enough to fit one person through.


	2. Chapter 2

Her pulse sped up. She saw the knight roll, and come up behind the swirling black mass. It quickly swung a large extremity, and sent the knight flying backwards, tumbling off the roof top.

She aimed her crossbow, and fired.

A terrifying screech ignited the air, and the pulsing mass jerked its body around, setting its red gaze upon her. She quickly loaded another bolt, and fired; her arms starting to tremble.

It picked up its pace; the swirling black mass twitched, as violent, hellish growls emanated from the center. She dropped her bow and slammed her back against the stone wall behind her.

Her eyes closed, as she tilted her head to the side. She was going to die. She couldn't look. She didn't want to watch.

She felt the large mass looming in front of her. Sounds of a sickening gurgle surrounded her, and the air became damp. Her body shook, as she felt the grotesque blackness push closer.

The sheen of a sword was heard, followed by a stomach-churning slice. Cold slime was flung all over the front of her body, and she sobbed, curling in on herself, wrenching her eyes even tighter. The monstrosity wailed, causing her to cover her ears to keep her eardrums from shattering. All she could hear anymore was the rapid beating of her heart. Fear overwhelmed her, and she was too frightened to open her eyes. She had accepted her death.

She felt two hands, slowly snake their way around her wrists, and gently tug, indicating her to remove them. Her eyes opened wide.

It was the knight.

Her eyes dashed around, taking in the environment. Behind him laid the crumpled form of the hellish black mass; black oozed seeped out, pooling onto the stone below.

She looked down. She was covered in the same fluid. Her stomach retched, and she openly gagged, pushing his hands away, and crawling to the side. She yanked her face covering down, attempting to throw up, but only dry heaving.

She felt the slime that coated around her eyes, and dug through her packs, looking for cloth…anything. She jerked her gloves off, and used her hands, wiping the ooze across the stone, repeating the process.

She rocked back on her heels, staying on her knees on the cold ground. She started to shake again, as hot tears streamed out. It was all overwhelming, and she felt as though her sanity was slipping.

A bright, gloved hand appeared in her peripheral view, and found its way on her shoulder blade. She reached up with her naked hand, and gave the cold metal a squeeze.

"Thank you."

The metal glove carefully twisted, slipping their fingers under her palm. Their thumb rubbed across her knuckles.

She looked up; her face adorned with streaks of black slime, soot, and tears. Some of her dark, red hair had become loose. The knight pulled, and she found herself on her feet.

"Man of Pus. I was, perhaps, too eager in my exploits."

It was a man's voice. His accent was similar to those in the shrine, yet slightly different. He held her hand, and reached forward with the other, cupping the leather underside over her right cheek. His thumb did a sweep under her eye, and she felt as though something crusted had been removed.

"Once you use the bonfire, this will disappear. Did you bring your estus flask?

Her eyebrows furrowed. An estus flask? Her head slowly shook.

He chuckled, warmly. She could make nothing of what was underneath the helm. The visor shrouded all features into shadow, allowing only the man underneath to peer outwards.

His hand tucked some of her hair behind her ear, as her hood fell back. Tangled, red hair spilled out behind her.

"We may need to bind that." He removed both his hands, stepping back. "Your features…they are, unique. Where are you from?"

She looked down at her grim covered hands. Was she deformed? Did she carry scars?

"What marks me as different?"

He chuckled again. He turned, swiping her crossbow off the ground. "You speak…differently. Yet, Lothric is a strange land, inhabited by even stranger things. It is of no great concern."

Lothric. So, this was where she was? The name had no familiarity to her, what so ever. She looked back at the, still bleeding, mass in front of them.

"This is a nightmare. I keep expecting to wake up, but the question is…where?"

He was fiddling with her weapon. He removed his gloves, and long, slender hands came into view. The skin was calloused, scarred.

"There was no estus flask buried with you?"

She thought back on where she had awoken. The stone tomb. She had never looked back inside, too relieved to be freed.

"How…did you…know?"

Something clicked on her crossbow, as his hands pulled a piece into place.

"Simple. I found you."

She padded the front of her slime encrusted clothing, as her cheeks reddened. Why was she suddenly embarrassed? Her deformities were more of a curiosity, no doubt. Perhaps the rest if her body was marked as well?

He turned around, handing her the crossbow. She took it, looking it over. She was unsure what he had done. His ungloved hand found its way to her cheek, again, and he ran a thumb across the bone.

"I fixed your sight. It should fire more accurately now."

"Thank…you." She stepped away from his touch, and turned around, placing the crossbow on the ground. She busied herself with covering her face back up. It was something she should remember when meeting new people. Her deformities were probably best kept hidden.

Turning to face the knight, she found him staring at her, patiently waiting.

"You have come this far, but I feel it would be unkind to part at this point. I ask, would you be willing to travel as my companion for a little further?"

Her smile was hidden underneath the cloth, but she nodded in agreement. Since she lacked a purpose, her current goal mattered not.

"Wonderful! My name is Randull the Yellow." He bowed, respectfully in front of her. "I originally hail from a land far from here, as well as from a time prior to this. I am afraid I had been dead for quite some time, before being awoken as Unkindled."

Her eyes twinkled, as she tilted her head, taking in the grandiose introduction of her new companion.

His arm outstretched towards her. "And you, my lady, where do thou hail from?"

She frowned, as her eyes glanced to the side. "I'm sorry, but I do not know. I merely awoke here."

He straightened his posture. "Ah, well that is of no concern. The past matters not, but it is the future that further defines us. You appear to be of a good sort, and that speaks wonders of your character. Do you have a name?"

She shook her head.

"Why that simply will not do." He looked at her, noticing the dark red that was inching its way out from under her cowl. "Scarlet."

She tilted her head, then slowly nodded in agreement. Honestly, she did not care what she was called, as long as it wasn't "little mouse".

"Well, my dear companion, I dare say it is time for us to be off, do you not agree?" She nodded, silently again, and he chuckled. He stepped back onto the slanted roof top where the massive black creature had originated. Other people were scattered over the tiles, dead.

"What happened to these people? Why are they so sickly?"

"These are hollowed. They are undead, marked with the dark sign. I have not, exactly, figured out what they are _doing_ here."

They came to a ladder, and she watched as he proceeded to descend. A hollowed archer saw him in the distance, and loaded up their crossbow, aiming at Randull's unsuspecting form. A bolt flew through its eye, and it fell back to the ground. Randull looked at the dead hollow below, then slowly lifted his head up to his new companion above. She was lowering her crossbow.

"Scarlet, I think you and I are going to become _great_ friends."

Her smile was hidden, but was as big as it could get. "I believe, you adjusting my target, has helped."

He chuckled, and continued moving down the ladder. He unhooked his shield, unsheathing his sword from his left hip. He glanced around the doorframe of the building then just scaled down. Towards the back of the room, he saw the lumbering form of a Lothric Knight, still roaming the abandoned halls. To the left was another doorway, leading to a side room. His instincts screamed: ambush.

He felt her presence behind him, and he turned, facing her, leaning in.

"We will be ambushed from the left. I want you to focus on anything you see in the distance, and let me handle up close. Ready?"

She nodded, enthusiastically. This was exciting. She felt her adrenaline kick in, as her pulse quicken. She loaded a bolt, and waited for his signal.

He lowered his hand, and they slipped to the side as the large knight in the distance turned its back. Running into the side room, she immediately saw the hollow in the back, and fired a precise headshot. Randull had two on him to the left, and he lifted his shield, blocking a blow, while pushing forward. The impact caused them to stagger, and he swiped across with his sword, severing their torsos.

After they had cleared the left room, she walked up to him. He had been staring at one of the corpses, for quite some time. He knelt by the corpse, rummaging through one of its pockets. A bright, wispy item appeared in his gloved hand. He turned to her.

"A soul. I am thinking how we should split these."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Soul? That's…not possible. Souls are not tangible."

He grabbed her hand, turning her palm over, as he deposited the dim glowing object.

"See. Tangible. It is yours, I have decided." He reached up, nicking her cloth covered chin, and walked out of the room.

She held the glowing crystal in her hand. It was jagged and uneven. The glowing would fade in and out from the center. She did not know what to do with it, so she felt for a travel bag on her right hip, putting it in there for now. Hopefully, it was not fragile.

The pushed forward, applying the same strategy as before: she would handle the far away, and he would take care of the up close. They found themselves overlooking a large dining hall. Many, large wooden tables covered the middle, while barrels of goods were stacked against the walls. Scarlet's eyes picked up a blackened smear near one of the wooden crates.

Gunpowder. How she knew that, she did not know. However, she did remember the most important thing. Fire + Gunpowder =…

"Boom."

Randull looked at her, his expression hidden by his visor. "Boom?"

She nodded towards the crate on the far end of the room. "Remember that bomb you found off the hollow upstairs?"

He turned, squinting his eyes. He looked back at her. "Boom."

She put her hand over her covered mouth, as she suppressed a giggle.

They patiently watch, noticing the movements of the extremely aggressive, and strong, hollows that wandered the lower level. Randull counted to ten, lighting the bomb, then pulling Scarlet back with him into the shadows. It rolled to the crate, a couple of dogs running over to sniff at the new intrusion.

The explosion rocked the walls, and splinters of wood shot out in all directions. They were on a small outcrop from a middle level, hidden behind a jut in the wall. They were pressed up against each other, hidden in the shadows, when the carcass of an undead dog landed right in front of them.

Scarlet pushed herself back as far as she could, as the smoldering dog started to give off a horribly putrid smell. She put her hand over her gloved mouth, trying to keep from gagging. She looked at Randull. He was leaning to the side, trying to hold his breath.

The blast had managed to incinerate two-thirds of the room. She fired another bolt, hitting her mark on a rather large hollow towards the back. Slowly, they picked them off, one at a time. She stood confidently in the middle of the room, impressed they had manage to make it this far.

"Hey, come help me with this chest."

She jogged over to a small set of steps that led down. It was a low point in the floor, a temporary "cellar", to keep some items cooler. Up against the back wall was a brown chest.

He motioned his hand towards it. "I am going to hit it with my sword. Be ready?"

She looked at him like he was insane, but she gripped her crossbow, loading a bolt, and aimed at the wooden chest. Randull raised his sword, performing a powerful down thrust.

It stuck in the wood. She lowered her crossbow, putting her hand on her hip.

"Is this going to happen a lot?"

"I swear! Back before the last bonfire, one of these bastards tried to eat me!"

Her eyes narrowed, as she shook her head. It took him three attempts to dislodge his sword from the lid, as she continued to watch him, trying to muffle her laughter. A snort slipped out, and his head snapped to her.

"Please, _my lady_ , go right ahead." He stomped off.

She knelt in front of it, grunting a bit to push the damaged lid up. Looking in, she saw a small item at the bottom, and reached for it, bringing it up to her face.

"A key?" She turned to him, her eyes questioning.

"Let me see that." He leaned over, snatching it, and lifting it up in the light. He looked at her.

"How do you feel about thieves…"

[-]

Scarlet had Randull's arm draped over her shoulder and neck, as she dragged him along the back corridor. One of the hollows had ambushed them with fire bombs, catching Randull by surprise, and sending him colliding into a weapon rack behind them, impaling himself on a spear. Scarlet's bolt was simply a few seconds too late.

She glanced behind her, as she breathed heavy, supporting most his weight. A substantial amount of blood trailed behind them. They would need to get to a bonfire soon, however, she would be unable to pull him up the ladder they descended.

She saw the jail cell he had been so adamant about finding. Her companion's breathing was becoming raspy, as he pressed against the gaping hole from where the spear had punctured through his shoulder.

They reached the bottom, and she propped him up against the stone wall. She crouched down, falling forward on her knees, as she attempted to look at his wound in greater detail. Her dark, auburn hair pooled out, some of it streaked with sweat.

She took her gloves off, and pried at his armor. Her eyes were panicked. What would she do if he died? He had been her only companion…he had even named her. Tears started to swell, and a sob accidently fell out of her mouth.

A gloved hand wearily lifted towards her face, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "Didn't I say we should bind this?"

"Randull, I don't know how to fix you." Tears were streaming down her cheeks, soaking the facial covering.

He chuckled. "Ah, yes, you have not experienced this 'gift' of ours yet, my fellow unkindled. It does warm my heart though, to know you are already _this_ attached to me." He nicked her chin, as he coughed. She saw a little bit of blood trickle from his visor.

His body began to glow, as sections started to burn away, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. He reached for her, grabbing her shoulder, as his hand slowly disintegrating into nothing.

"Wait for me here…"

She blinked, and he was gone. A breeze blew the left-over ash along the tile floor, some of it stinging her eyes. He was gone.

"Hello?"

A voice came from her left. She rose to her feet, and headed towards the man behind the prison bars. He was crouched in the corner, with some sort of bag over his head, and cruel looking collar, locking it into place. Was he criminal? What had he done to deserve this? She kept her distance, her mind still trying to cope with Randull's death.

"Ahh, you're no jailer, are you?"

She shook her head to the side, looking at him confused. She felt for the key in her pocket, pulling it out, as she looked at in the dim light. Slowly, she walked to the prison bars, putting the key into the socket, and turning.

It clicked. The man stood up, still hunched over, and walked towards her, his hands spread in a form of gratitude. He leaned in close to her, looking her up and down, and from the side. All she could see was two shadowed eyes, staring closely at her from behind the sack hood. She turned her head to the side, covering her eyes with her hand; was it her deformities, again?

"No, no, you're from far away. And judging by the bell...you must be some of that unkindled ash. Remarkable, if that's true, then I have a favor to ask. Below the High Wall is a musty little town. Not the home of any lord, just a very old settlement of Undead. An old woman, Loretta, lives there. Please give her this ring."

He handed her a beautiful blue sapphire ring. The large gem caught the little bit of sunlight that came in through the small, prison window. She nodded, and reached for her satchel, dropping it in next to the crystalized "soul".

"I- I am not asking for charity. In fa- in fact if you do this for me... I'll be sure to repay you in kind. I-I may be a petty thief, but I've more wits than most royalty. What do you say, then?"

"Of course, I will do my best to find her."

He clapped his hands together.

"Very well. I humbly place my faith in you. I am Greirat of the Undead Settlement, and I promise to assist you. Give this ring to old Loretta at the base of the High Wall. Do your part, and I'll do mine."

He scurried past her, disappearing over the side edge of the stone wall. She ran up, looking down, seeing nothing but fog below. She heard the clank of metal, and snapped her head to the left.

Randull was standing on top of the small stairwell, his arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed, and she noticed the hole in his armor was gone. It was as if none of it happened…

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at him confused, as he jogged down the stairs towards her. He took a right, heading back to the spot where he had disintegrated. He sifted through the ash pile, and pulled out something akin the crystal soul that was in her pocket. He stood up and crushed the object in his hand. A small, hazy light washed over him, and he sighed, relieved.

He looked over at the small prison, noticing the unlocked door, as well as the man's absence. He turned towards her, his visor still hiding any emotion.

"Make a new friend?"


	3. Chapter 3

She had lost track of how many hollowed they had killed on their way down the high wall. Past where they had found Greirat's cell key, there had been a very large, and inhumanly strong, knight. It had proceeded to walk in a circle around a large fountain, as if it was still trying to honor the last duty it had been given, albeit their leaders were long dead. She squinted her eyes; wings.

"Randull, why does that knight have wings?"

He sheathed his sword, fumbling with a large pack on the side of his left hip. "Because it is an angel."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "An angel? Angels aren't real."

He stopped his rummaging, turning towards her. "Are you sure you have no recollection of your past?"

Her eyes looked off to the side, as she tried thinking as hard as she could of anything from before her nightmarish entombment.

"I remember…a bright light, and rain. It is painful, though. If I receive any kind of image, or something seems familiar, a sharp pain flares in my head."

He reached out, grabbing her shoulder and squeezing it a little in sympathy.

"I hope that, someday, fate is kind enough to give you an answer, my friend." She smiled under her face covering, her eyes crinkling a bit.

She saw him pull out a knife, and wait for the "angel" to come near them in its never-ending patrol. He pulled his arm back, and then threw it forward. She watched the dagger spin the air, landing right in between the helmet and chest armor.

The angel gave a fierce, deep grunt, and started to aggressively move about, swiping at the dead, dusty corpses of smaller knights on the ground. Scarlet pulled a bolt back, and let it fly, hitting it in the helmet. It punctured, and the angel stumbled a bit, still acting like a caged animal.

"Keep firing. Eventually he'll go down." And so she did. Roughly ten, deadly accurate, shots later, the large angel fell to its knees, keeling over. Its body disintegrated, leaving a large, glowing crystalized soul within the ashes.

Randull slapped her on the back. "Good show!" He scooted over to the ladder, stepping down to the small courtyard below. She quickly followed in suit. He knelt before the large soul, picking it up and sticking it in his satchel.

"My instincts tell me that we're nearing the final strides of our exploration here."

[-]

"Unkindled One. Head to the High Wall's base. Go through the great gate, and raise the banner to proceed. But beware. The dog keeps a close eye on things. The vile watchdog of the Boreal Valley."

The frail, old woman spoke with a thread of authority, long lost in years past. Scarlet stood to the side, merely a witness to the exchange at hand. The High Priestess had handed Randull some sort of symbol, written on a large piece of cloth. He bowed respectfully, and turned, motioning for Scarlet to follow.

They stepped out through the large doorway, back onto the descending steps, towards a large set of doors at the bottom. She tripped over the body of one of the knights they killed earlier, causing its helmet to barrel down the steps, making as much noise as possible.

She cringed each time it hit a stone surface, sending a loud clinging that echoed in the, mostly, abandoned area. Randull stopped, facing her, saying nothing as it continued its journey to the bottom. Finally, it hit the last step, rolling over a few more times, before rattling to a stop.

He tilted his helmet, looking down at her through the visor. She swore she caught a reflection of his eyes, but she was unsure, as they disappeared into darkness as quickly as they had appeared. She gave him a cheesy grin, forgetting that her mouth was covered, and shrugged her shoulders.

He turned, and continued downwards. At the bottom, she noticed some dead hollows, with large turtle shells on their back. Each one had carried a staff, and covered themselves with a few lanterns, cloth, and other miscellaneous items. Their corpses were worn…dusty. Their spindly legs were nothing but skin and bone.

She wondered: what was their purpose? Why were they here? Why _now_?

Randull proceeded to push open the large doors. The creaking of the ancient, wooden doors filled the area, almost giving it a life of its own, among the scattered corpses that surrounded them. Something came to her mind, that the High Priestess had said.

"The vile watchdog…"

He turned to her, as she put her hand on his shoulder. "Be cautious, my friend. I sense something ominous…something _wrong_."

He padded her hand, stepping forward as she loaded a bolt in her crossbow. Towards the back of the massive chamber, another set of doors was closed. Vines grew throughout the wood, intermingling in a thick cover. It had not been used in a long time…

He touched the veins, attempting to rip them off, so they could proceed forward. A low grumble rose from behind them. They both turned.

A large, bent over man, was crawling around on all fours, moving cautiously towards them. He had on a spectacular set of silver armor, covered in a haze of blue. His breath came out in constant, large white clouds. He let out a shriek, and sprinted towards them.

She grabbed Randull, throwing him to the side. The man-beast slammed into the wooden door, breaking a few pieces of the wooden plants. She raised her crossbow, firing straight into his face.

The man-beast screamed, swiping with his left arm, and sending her flying back across the chamber. Randull, finally, snapped out of his shock and plunged downwards, holding his sword with both hands, his shield still latched to the back.

The deranged man recoiled, and he dodged, managing to miss the deadly slam of the man-beast's fists. They continued this routine for a while; Randull would swipe, cutting his foe, and dodge in time to avoid being crushed.

The man's movements became more erratic, and he started to fully sprint around the chamber, ramming into anything in his way, attempting to smash Randull. He barreled towards him, and Randull timed himself, before dodging at the last minute. The man-beast slammed into the stone wall, and Randull came up, burying his sword into its gullet.

The death shrieks filled the chamber, as the man twitch, falling to the floor amidst the gurgling gasps for air. The body began to burn, and Randull felt an overwhelming sensation, as his body engulfed in a small flame. He raised his hands; noticing the bright, burning lines that were etched across his body.

He had gained an ember, from one close to a Lord of Cinder. He knelt in the swirling ash pile, finding a large crystalized sword; burning a bright blue. He smiled to himself, reaching to his large satchel to the left, and slipping the soul in.

Scarlet…he almost forgot. He looked around the chamber, trying to find where she might be. He had been so caught up in the fight that he hadn't noticed her absence.

His eyes caught a limp figure on the opposite wall. He ran over to it, sliding onto his knees, as he gently lifted her limp head up. The broken end of a halberd had punctured itself through her chest, and hung out, dripping blood.

He lowered her face covering, looking at her glazed eyes. Blood poured out of her mouth, as she attempted to swallow, gasping for breath. Her eyes shed tears, as she desperately reached out for him, grabbing along the cold edges of his armor. Her body began to convulse, as she whimpered in pain.

He pulled her to him, holding her, trying to give her words of comfort. The first time…it was always the worst. _You never forget_ …

Eventually, he felt her form beginning to disintegrate, and a few moments later, ash ran through his gloved fingers, sprinkling to the floor beneath him. He rummaged through the remnants, finding her soul, and cupping it delicately in his left hand. It burned a deep green color,.

He walked to the unlit bonfire, lighting it, and kneeling in front. She would be at the Shrine.

[-]

They were standing outside of her tomb. She nervously crossed her arms in front of her chest, gripping her shoulders. She hated this spot. Everything about it. Her breathing hitched a bit, as her eyes became dilated.

Randull was bent over, digging around inside. He was positive it should be here…

"Ah! There we go." He pushed in a bit further, swiping an object in the back, and pulling it to him, out into the open air. He held it up to the dim remnants of sunlight that barely poured over the ominous edges of the cliffs.

It was a grayish, glass jar, covered in cracks. Her eyes narrowed.

"I've seen a lot of jars back at the Undead Settlement. Ones without cracks."

Laughter roared out of his mouth, as he stood, dusting it off and handing it to her.

"Trust me. None of them are like _this_."

She rotated it in her palms, running a gloved finger along the various cracks that spread through it.

"What's its function?"

"It is a gift. Molded from the souls of Firekeepers of old. Estus, my dear, is worth more than all the precious metals and jewels this cursed land could offer."

She kept looking at the jar. "How does it…work?"

"Well, we will need to stop by our resident blacksmith. He should be able to repair some of the cracks. You will be able to get a few good swallows out of it at first. Once we find more shards, Andre will be able to melt them down and fill in more of the voids."

She nodded, putting the jar in a larger satchel she had taken to slinging, diagonally over her shoulder. During her travels with Randull, she had come across many, potentially valuable, items, and found her original, small bags to be inadequate for carrying "loot". Randull was very adamant on "loot" and always interested in gaining more of it.

After her death, he had kept insisting that they come back to find her an "estus flask". It had something to do with healing, but she did not quite understand the mechanics. However, he seemed much more content now that she carried the jar.

Her death…it was, horrible. She remembered the pain…the panic. The deadness of the black that overtook her. Nothingness. Then, she awoke, gazing languidly at the bonfire in the shrine. She was lying on her side, fully clothed in her armor. A quick check of her person revealed that her wound had been healed…as though it had, also, never happened.

It made no sense. It was as though the bonfire _also_ controlled the flow of time. It could reverse physical matter into a previous state. Perhaps time...perhaps it had no meaning here?

They headed back to the shrine.

[-]

"He-Hello. Have you changed your mind?"

Scarlet crouched on her knees, so she was facing the thief. She hated hoarding over him, and he obviously had some sort of spinal deformity. Or he was just lunatic.

"Sort of. I have a sort of…personal, request."

Greirat leaned in closer to her. She could see his shadowed eyes dancing about in anticipation.

"Oh, do tell, my sweet lady. What can this humble thief do for you?"

She rose her hands up, carefully, and lowered her cloth covering. Her eyes were shut, as she did not want to see the look of horror in his. She blindly waived a hand in front of her face.

"Please, I need a mask…one that covers… _this_. The cloth does not seem to be effective."

Greirat rocked back on the balls of his feet, scratching his head through the hood. Was she a loon? He shrugged. To each their own…

He thought some more, before gasping in delight. "I know the perfect mask! But…I will need to pillage for it. Well, what do you say?"

She nodded, very weakly. She was not comfortable sending him out by himself, especially after the dangers she has faced. Having Randull there to help is what had gotten her to this point. Greirat had no one. She reached out, grabbing his shoulder.

"Please, be careful." She smiled and let go. He looked at her through the hood for a few more moments, before darting off into the shadows of the shrine.

The click of boots sounded beside her, and she snapped her head to the left. The roguish man, who had handed her the red pieces of stone, was looking over her. His blue eyes were visible, staring down on her with a curious intensity. She blankly stared up, her mouth part-way open. The smell of spice and leather crossed her senses. She jerked, realizing her face wasn't covered, and turned away from him, shielding her left side with her hand. She fumbled for her cloth, stretching it across the lower part of her face, and pulled her cowl down lower.

She heard a chuckle. "Our little mouse is still skittish, it seems. Has the Unkindled hero not bolstered you with enough pride and honor, my lady?"

Her eyes narrowed. "He is a decent man. You would do well to remember such, before you mock him again."

He placed his hand over his heart, and stepped back, faking shock. "Why, my lady…it was never my attention to offend you. Nor was I mocking such a _decent man_." He lowered his arm, and turned, moving the other in a dismissive gesture. "No, I dare say our sweet Firekeeper agrees with your sentiments…" He slowly walked up the stone steps, disappearing back into the shadows.

Her forehead creased, glancing back towards the main hallway that connected the back portion of the shrine to the central area. She gradually rose and ascended the steps. The familiar banging of metal from Andre's hammer resonated throughout the grand space. Her head tilted as she came around the corner, behind Randull and the Firekeeper.

 _Oh…_

He had her small, porcelain hands in his, as he rubbed over her knuckles with his thumbs. She could see that his visor was lifted, but he was facing diagonally away from her, shrouding his face. The Firekeeper smiled back at him, as he leaned in…

Scarlet turned, heading back into the darkened corridor. It was not her business to pry, even though it tore a little at her heart. She had, unintentionally, developed a liking to her savior, as such things tend to commonly play out. Her hands felt over her face. It didn't feel scarred, but perhaps it was simply the bone structure which made it hideous. At least, he still valued her as a travel companion, if nothing else.

Blue eyes watched as she descended into the lower corridors.

[-]

"You seem a little more quiet than usual, my dear, what seems to be the trouble?"

They had pushed their way to a bonfire, within an abandoned, cliff-side house. They were still in the Undead Settlement, aimlessly traveling around at a loss of any real direction. Scarlet was gazing through the doorway, over the narrow cliff walls, trying to make out the silhouette of a large figure in the distance.

"Nothing that matters."

Randull had his arm propped up over his knee, as he sat before the fire. The warmth spread through his weary bones, and he felt the flames caress the open wounds, closing them. His thoughts returned to the Firekeeper. Her soothing touch; her calming voice…he was beginning to doubt the necessity of his predestined fate.

He looked towards his traveling companion. She clung to her cloth mask, trying to shroud as much of herself as possible. He pitied her; her displacement, her oddness. She did not belong to Lothric, nor any of the neighboring lands, this much he could tell. Yet, here she was, trying to make the best of her situation, serving as a stalwart companion to him, through and through.

Something had changed though. It seemed to coincide with Leonhard's unusual visit to the lower section of the shrine. His gut instincts told him that the shady Ringfinger had said something to her. He had actively been trying his best to keep her away from that snake, as much as possible.

"What did Leonhard tell you?" He asked her in a frank tone.

She turned to him. He could see redness in her eyes. "Nothing that was not confirmed with my own eyes. As I said before, it matters not."

He was going to kill that rogue.

"That man is full of deception and lies, my dear. I would suggest that you never take anything he tells you as a truth."

Her eyes narrowed. "Does that mean you are not in love with the Firekeeper?"

His visor hid his expression, but his mouth fell agape. Ah, so this is what was bothering her. He cringed. It was his fault. He had flirted with her heavily in the beginning. She was quite attractive, and he supposed it was simply natural on his part.

"Scarlet…you are not unworthy, if that is what you think."

Her eyes look pained, and she shrugged her shoulders, turning her gaze back through the doorway. "I will be satisfied to remain your friend. I am not meant for much else in this land, I am afraid. Perhaps…that is what stings, the most."

Silence fell over the pair, as they allowed the bonfire to continue its healing effects. He did not know how to comfort her. His thoughts drifted back to the deceitful rogue, Leonhard. Why would he interfere? A notion dawned on him, one he did not particularly care for.

"What does he, typically, say to you?"

Her eyes snapped to him, a look of confusion on them, as she mulled over his question. "Ah, nothing gravely important. He mostly mocks me."

"Why would he do that?"

She shrugged. "Probably because I am an easy target? I have not entirely figured him out. I do not think he is inherently evil though, as you do. However, he is quite _irritating_."

He laughed. His heart lightened slightly, as she returned to their normal conversations. While his love was well placed in the Firekeeper, his red-headed friend was quite important to him, none the less. He disliked her despondence.

She stood up, brushing the dust off of her, as she bent over to pick up her crossbow. "Ready? I feel as though we may never wish to move again if we linger her much longer."

He chuckled. "Very true." He stood, his armor clanking while he tried to straighten his posture. He pointed at the wall. "Did you want to see what was in that large courtyard, back at the abandoned ruin? It struck me as a potentially important area."

She loaded a bolt in her crossbow. "Aye. Lead on, Captain."

He grinned, as he stuck his head through the doorway, moving right. They would climb up the ladder at the end of the narrow pathway. He stepped out, keeping close to the edge. His hand found itself around the ladder, and he was heaving himself up, when he heard the scuffle of something next to him. A thief. It was sprinting towards him, the axe swung above its head, ready to strike.

A bolt flew through its head, lodging itself in the sack that the thief wore over their head. It squealed, falling off into the ravine below.

"See, what would I do without you?"

"Probably die all the time and permanently live at a bonfire."

He grinned, continuing up the ladder. It had taken her a while to come to terms with death and rebirth through the bonfires. It wasn't… _unheard_ of, where resurrection was not an option. During the prime of the Age of Fire, most died. Only those branded by the Dark Sign could revive, losing their humanity each time.

Yoel... The pilgrim had confirmed what he had known for years, yet denied. He had been branded with the Dark Sign, and was gaining the Dark Sigils, death by death. The Firekeeper, she was blind. She would never see the corpse that he now was.

Scarlet, she was not branded. If she was, she did not bolster its benefits. Her deaths did not result in a loss of her humanity, nor a gain in Dark Sigils. However, she was still able to revive, just as he was. Her past, no doubt, would hold answers. Would she ever discover them? He did not know. Time was distorted in Lothric and it also made everything it touch distorted.

He watched as she fired at a deranged villager with deadly accuracy, watching as the corpse fell over into the ravine. They quickly hurried up the stone steps into the old ruins, before the next patrol made their way to them.

Before them was a large courtyard. No exit appeared on the other side. Perhaps something valuable was hidden within the various crevices and features of the grounds. He stepped through the entranceway, with Scarlet close behind. She would actively scan the higher up areas, taking out any snipers before they had a chance to fire at them. In the back was a large, deformed tree. Obviously, whoever used to tend these grounds, was long dead…

They walked towards it, looking at the massive plant. Roots were oddly grown out from it, it non-symmetrical formations. It appeared to have large cysts, the size of a head, or larger, spread over its bark. Even the trees were diseased in this gods-forsaken land.

A branch moved. Or, he thought it did. He shook his head, looking back up at the tree. He felt the ground move, and looked down. One of the roots was detaching itself from the soil, swinging around at a fast pace. He grabbed Scarlet, yanking her back with him before they were both pummeled.

She fired a bolt into the bark, and heard a large, ominous groan. "What in the hell is that?!"

Randull rolled dodging a branch that swung at him. The tree had turned, displaying a grotesque front side, adorned in cysts and twisted wood. It was balancing itself on four, large limbs, unable to do much more than lift up a few feet, slamming back down.

He heard the whizz of a bolt fly near his head, and turned to the left, seeing it impale in the forehead of a deranged, undead villager. More were coming in strong behind the collapsing corpse at his feet. He saw her take down two more, before they had to dodge to the right, avoiding a large root.

He saw it become unbalanced, and rock back, the limbs flailing slightly. He ran up and swiped across its groin, causing a few of the cysts to burst. The creature shouted out in pain, swirling its limbs around erratically. He felt the impact of the hard stone on his back, after mistiming a dodge.

Scarlet ran to him, firing another bolt at a cyst, causing green, putrid puss to spew out over some of the undead wandering around in a frenzy. She stepped over his recovering form, firing at will, giving him enough time to gather his sense again.

The cursed tree leaned near them, and she aimed at a large cyst on its chest. She fired, causing it to rupture, and soak both of them in its slime. The creature wailed, lifting up and smashing down one last time. The floor broke, and they found themselves free failing towards their deaths. She closed her eyes, expecting death.

She felt muddy, soft ground instead. The fall had not killed them. What magic was involved, she did not know, but she quickly scrambled to her feet, pulling Randull up and moving them forward before the tree could stomp them into a pulp. She dragged him to the opposite room, firing a bolt behind her to keep the tree staggered.

Randull had managed to regain his senses, and took a wide berth, gaining its attention. He made sure to pay attention to his dodging, not as concerned with swiping at the cysts, unless they were freely available. His tactic was to keep it occupied, while Scarlet wore it down.

It worked, and before he knew it, the great beast was wailing, rolling on its back as its arms erratically wavered above its body. Eventually, ash began to degrade the corpse, and a large, burning soul was left in its wake. He knelt, retrieving the closing crystal.

Scarlet had her crossbow draped, looking down at her outfit. It was covered in greenish, white slime. "I need a bath."

He laughed, rummaging through the rest of the ashes. Something shined, only for a split second. He brushed aside the ashes some more. A dark, sphere with a crystalized outer shell appeared.

"Hey, come here. Take a look at this."

She leaned over his shoulder, narrowing her eyes on the object in question. "What… _is it_?"

He shook his head. "I do not know. Want it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'll take all the junk you don't want."

He stood up, slapping her on the back. "Way to be a good sport!"


	4. Chapter 4

"My dear, would thou be so kind as to come near?"

Scarlet looked up, noticing a decrepit, burnt man on one of the large, stone thrones. She shook her head, glancing around. How had she never noticed him before…

"Fret not, fret not. My feet are here firmly planted. For I am a Lord, and this is my throne."

She jerked her head around, trying to locate Randull. He had dipped off into the lower section of the shrine, no doubt, speaking with that ghoulish looking man with the turtle shell on his back. She never pried as to the content on their discussions, as she preferred to keep an ignorant outlook to whatever situation may arise. She attributed her weariness to that of intuition.

She slowly ascended the stone steps to the left, curving up behind the grotesque throne, and coming to the one with the burnt, old man. She hopped down, walking around the throne edge, coming face to face with the small figure with a crown on his head.

He leaned a little forward, looking over her form. "Oh, thou'rt unkindled, and a seeker of Lords. I am Ludleth of Courland. Look not in bewilderment as I say…I linked the fire long ago, becoming a Lord of Cinder. If substantiation be thy want, set thine eyes upon my charred corpse. This sad cadaver. No need to be coy, have a closer look."

She moved from side to side, taking a glance at him from different angles. He tilted his head for her, a crusted smile forming on his charred lips.

"Are you in pain?"

He chuckled. "No, child. The pain has long died." He looked at her satchel. "Thou'st come into possession of a rare artifact, perhaps?"

She noticed where his eyes were directed, and reached in her satchel, feeling around at the contents. She felt the coldness of the dark, crystal globe, and took it out.

"Oh, belike it is… a transposing kiln in thy possession. Seen better days, but, methinks it shall suffice. Listen, this might pique thine interest. Before I was a Lord of Cinder, I was a student of transposition. The process of extracting, and coalescing the essence of a soul. A forbidden art, that once left a foul stain upon Courland's honor. Tis an art that grants powers once thought unattainable. Most transposing kilns were lost with Courland, yet thou'st have exceeded the impossible, as such."

He gave her a cracked smile, reaching out to take possession of the transposition kiln. She carefully placed it in his tiny, black hand, lingering for a few seconds until he pulled it safely back into his lap.

"Now bring me a twisted soul. In transposing a twisted soul, its true power transfer to thee. Thy purpose is to seek Lords, and slay them. What's to fear in a little transposition, now?"

He chuckled, his eyes glancing to hers, reminding her of a look that a grandfather may give his grandchildren. She couldn't help but grin back, underneath the cloth that covered her face. She saw the old man glance upwards, then back to her.

"Thou has another who is keen on conversing, its seems. Now, now, do not be away overlong." He shooed her way with a tiny, blackened hand, giving her a dismissing grin. She bowed, walking back to the small ledge she climbed down. She would need to heave herself up. Looking down at the stone, she positioned her feet on a small crevice and began to pull.

A gloved hand came into her view and she glanced up. It was the masked rogue.

"Does the lady need some assistance?"

She stared at his hand, shaking her head in very subtle, shy movements. He crouched, coming nearer to her face. His hand moved, running down the length of some red locks that dislodged themselves from her binding.

"I am afraid you misunderstand my intentions towards you, little mouse."

"I'm positive she understands them completely, Leonhard."

She swerved her head, seeing Randull standing behind the rogue, his hand resting on the top of his sword hilt, as he stared down on the two below him.

Leonhard chuckled, standing up and slowly beginning to ascend the steps, away from them. "As you wish, _Unkindled_ …"

He kept his gaze on the Ringfinger, until he disappeared back into the shadows of where he came. Randull knelt, offering Scarlet his hand. She grabbed it, allowing him to pull her up. She dusted herself off, looking up at the knight.

"Do you still have any of those souls we obtained? The large ones? I think Ludleth can change them into an item, maybe? I am not sure entirely sure. He mentioned something about transferring power. It may be worth a try."

She saw Randull's head move around a few times, and heard a small sucking noise of air through teeth.

"Yeah…I sort of… _used them_ , already."

Her eyes narrowed, and she stuck out her hand. "Give me the rest."

"I sort of… _used those too._ "

She put her hand on her hip. "I am not entirely seeing how our partnership benefits me, in the least."

He slapped her back. "You get the best company that Lothric can offer, my friend!"

She shook her head, walking next to him, as they descended the stairs. The Firekeeper was waiting at the basin. Her posture was straight, and her small, perfect hands were folded in front of her. Her long, twisted blonde hair slightly fluttered in the small drafts that danced through the ancient shrine.

"Ashen one, may I speak to thee?"

Scarlet sighed. While she had come to terms with her arrangement and place, she did not enjoy having it rubbed in her face. She touched Randull's arm. "I'll be upstairs. I want to go see what's at the top of the shrine. I'll be careful, or you'll see me revive there." She pointed to the bonfire.

He chuckled, nodding, as he stepped towards the porcelain doll, taking her hands in his.

She hurried up the steps. The constant traveling had increased her stamina, and she found herself to be barely out of breath after a few flights. Stepping out into the open area, she noted the large, human-shaped, tree to the right. A few more strides, and she came across the locked gate, leading into a decrepit tower, which connected to the shrine, proper.

She yanked on the gate, trying to get it to budge. Nothing. To the left, she saw a ladder, still intact but not to connect to the ground, not just yet. She picked up a rock, throwing it at the latched mechanism which held the bottom part of the ladder up. Her aim was awful, and she ended up hitting the wall at an angle which caused the rock to ricochet back at her.

A gloved hand snapped into her vision before she could flinch, catching the rock. Her eyes blinked, looking to the right. He let it fall, his gaze on her intense. He stepped forward, moving his hand under her covered chin, nicking it.

"What fool leaves such beautiful prey to their own devices?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It is cruel to mock a person to their face."

She saw his animated blue eyes behind the silver mask. He seemed to enjoy their brief, and sporadic, rendezvous. Even with the looming threat of Randull, he could not stay away.

"My lady, I only mock those who deserve such. Your companion qualifies as such. You, however…" He moved in closer, his hand moving towards her face, twirled a strand of her red hair, once again. "I would gladly kill any who mock you."

His hand moved to the small clip that held her cloth over her face. He brushed a gloved thumb across her cheek, as he went to unlatch it. She shook her head, snapping back to reality, grabbing his wrist.

"No, please…"

She backed away, as she started to hurry towards the entrance to the shrine. She found herself sprinting down the steps. A clink was heard, and she looked up to see Randull turning away from the Firekeeper, his hand still hovering over his recently closed visor.

"Are you okay, Scarlet?"

She glanced up, seeing the rogue back in his usual position. His gaze was elsewhere, and for that, she was relieved.

"Yeah…I…let me see if Greirat is back."

[-]

The ominous, silver mask shimmered in the torch light.

"Oh my…Greirat, this is… _what is it_?"

The mask had a frown carved into it, and larger, slanted eye openings. It appeared feminine, yet it reminded her of an older woman. A large band with varying lobes spread out near the top. Fine etching adorned its surface, making swirling patterns which added to the elegance of the piece.

"The mask of the mother. Do not ask where this was found, or how I came to possess it, but it is rare, I assure you." He stuck it out towards her, offering her the mask. "Please, try it on!"

She carefully gripped the edges, pulling it to her. A low shimmer rippled across the surface.

"It's enchanted. Bu…but, I don't know with what. Hehe."

He nervously rocked on his heels. It had taken some skill to slip this from the Darkwraith in the depths of the outskirts of Lothric. However, it had given him that rush of adrenaline, that he had almost forgotten about as he rotted in his prison cell. It was addicting…it made him feel alive.

She carefully removed her cloth covering, turning her head from him. The mask slipped over, possessing a sort of cloth hood that helped keep it attached to her head. She pulled her cowl back, stopping before the protruding lobes of the mask. It held into place, and her vision was well enough. A sudden, invigorating rush spread through her nervous system, and she gasped from the sensation. She felt… _thicker_.

"Does the lady like, yes?"

She reached out, grabbing the thief's hands. "I _love_ it, Greirat. Thank you so much, what do I owe you?"

His hands darted out, as he grabbed her satchel, before she could even realize what had happened. He started sifting through the contents and pulled out a large soul.

"Th…th…this will do. Heh."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her satchel from him, and placing it back on her belt. He crushed the soul in his eyes, letting the contents wash over his form.

"Pleasure doing business. Come back…and take care!"

[-]

"That guy seems like an asshole."

Randull continued walking forward towards the entrance to a tower ahead. Although it was impossible to see to the top, he was positive this is where the giant resided. He had met more than one death to its large, well placed arrows. They were nearly done with the Undead Settlement, and he couldn't have been gladder. The most recent conversation with two new travelers, Eygon and Irina of Carim, had proven to be tiring. The male garbed in black, heavy armor, to be exact.

"How is he similar to a hole where refuse comes out of a body?"

She stopped, thinking on his question a bit. "He's unpleasant in all contexts."

He hummed in agreement. "That seems to be an accurate description then. Yes, Eygon is an asshole. In fact, I may apply that word to others."

"Does a certain rogue come into mind?" Her voice portrayed the sly grin that formed on her mouth.

"Now that you mention it…"

"Why do you dislike him so much?"

Randull stopped, looking at the large doors in front of him. "He's arrogant and cunning, for one. Mostly, though, I detest invading. It's immoral."

She looked at him confused. "I am unsure if I understand what 'invading' actually eludes to."

"Good. No need to involve yourself with it."

He leaned forward, pushing on the doors, as they squeaked in defiance of being opened. She peaked past his shoulder, her crossbow loaded and ready, as she scanned the area. An elevator was visible at the end of the corridor. Her sight closed in on a large, figure…of sorts.

"There's something by the elevator. Maybe a man? The armor is odd."

He leaned up, straightening his posture, squinting his eyes a bit to see. He recognized the telltale signs of his neighboring country.

"Ahoy! What news do you bring from Catarina, my friend?!"

The figure continued to look towards the elevator, unaware to their presence.

"Hmm...mmmmmm...hmm...mmm..." The strange person appeared to be lost in thought. Their large, turnip shaped helmet finally turned towards them.

"Oh! Pardon me, I was absorbed in thought. I am Siegward of Catarina." He waived, motioning us over. Across his shoulders was a large, two-handed sword. Scarlet doubted that the body underneath matched the oversized and ridiculously round armor he donned.

"To be honest, I'm in a bit of a pickle. Have you ever walked near a white birch, only to be struck by a great arrow? Well, if I'm not mistaken, they come from this tower. Whoever it is, I'm sure I can talk some sense into them."

He pointed up, with one of his large hands. His metal armor clinked, creating much noise in the large, empty elevator shaft of the tower.

"But I have to find a way up, and that's just the trouble. This lift only goes down, you see, and...well, that doesn't get me anywhere... Hmm... mmm..."

Siegward went back to staring at the elevator, trying to deduce how to access the upper portion of the tower. Scarlet swung her crossbow over her shoulder, as Randull tested the elevator. He stepped on the raised tile in the middle, allowing the wooden platform to either rise or fall. When it was raised, a second platform would appear from the depths below.

After a few failed attempts, they found themselves quickly ascending to the top of the tower. The rush of the stagnant air flew past her, causing her cowl to flutter. Siegward had insisted they head up first. Either as a courtesy, or merely to see how aggressive the giant was. They reached the top, ascending another flight of spiraling stairs, that wrapped around the outer edges.

The wind blew in her face, and she grabbed her hood, making sure it stayed, as a view of the entire settlement was laid before them. To the right, the large giant stood, his make-shift bow in hand.

"Who are you?" His deep, broken voice rang out. Randull pushed ahead, bowing.

"Randull the Yellow. Beside me is Scarlet. We come in peace, my friend."

The giant hummed, in agreement. He bent down, a large pop echoing in the tower below, as his back creaked. His large hands rummaged through a pile of items on the side. Eventually, some white branches emerged. He dropped them in front of Randull.

"I help anytime."

She bent down, looking at the larger twigs before them. She glanced to Randull, shrugging her shoulders. He motioned to pick them up, and moments later she found herself back on the elevator, her arms full of wooden twigs, with no clue where they were going to put them. Half way down the elevator ride, she saw Siegward wave at them, as he stood on a partially constructed platform.

They reached the main floor, and she stepped to the side, discarding the twigs. Randull stared back at the elevator, no doubt, contemplating if, and how, they would follow their round friend. Silence pervaded them, and her mind began to wonder back to the two individuals they met, not far from the tower itself. "Why is Irina imprisoned? Do you think we can get her out?"

He sighed. He did not want to get involved with those two, but he did feel sorry for the blind girl. Her "guardian" sure wasn't in a hurry to help her situation.

"I am unsure for the reason of her imprisonment. She is blind, and was being groomed to serve as a Firekeeper. For who, or when…I do not know." He turned, looking, once again, at the place he was anxious to leave. "I believe the hand maiden back at the shine…she sells a key…to a cell. It would still be quite a distance before we reached Irina."

He looked back to Scarlet. The hideous mask she wore hid all emotions. He did not understand why she was insistent on covering her face, but he was starting to understand her frustration in dealing with himself. You could never get a decent feel for the other person's thoughts or feelings. There was much to be said for facial expressions.

She stepped closer to him, grabbing his arm. "Please Randull, I don't want to leave her there. No one should suffer that fate. Here…" She dug in her satchel, pulling out a few small crystalized chucks of souls. It would barely buy her the bolts she had used during their last escapade. "Take mine, for the key."

He groaned, pushing her hand back. He needed to start letting her have more souls. She was becoming too weak for the newer situations and violent denizens they stumbled upon. In fact, he could not remember the last time she allowed the Firekeeper to bolster her resolve.

He cringed, recognizing his selfishness, as guilt washed over him. "Okay, I promise we'll come get her. However, I am quite intrigued by our recent acquaintance from Catarina. I believe it would pay off to follow him. I tell you what, we follow Siegward first, and then we'll free Irina. Do you agree to those terms?"

She squeezed his arm in approval, although he could not feel it through his armor. Nodding, he tugged her along with him back onto the elevator.

[-]

"A fire demon was not part of the terms, Randull!"

Scarlet ducked behind one of the abandoned buildings, as a blast of fire came barreling her way. She patted her cowl, extinguishing any of the small flames that caught alight on the thick material. She groaned, irritated.

"Can't hear you!" Randull dodged, attempting to roll out of the way of the massive, stone-like axe the demon used as a weapon. He miscalculated, and ended up catching the back end of the swing, sending him crashing into a pile of wooden crates, twenty feet away.

She snickered, firing off another bolt, hitting it in one of the hands that gripped the two-handed axe. The demon roared, fire immediately shooting out in all directions around it.

"For Catarina!"

Siegward came rushing in, wielding his large great sword, taking a swipe at the feet of the demon. It swirled, enraged, reading to smash the jolly, round man into a pulp. Scarlet fire a few more bolts, each time hitting its sensitive hands, causing it to drop the massive weapon. Randull had recovered, coming back in with a large thrust at its other foot.

This tactic worked. Siegward and Randull would swipe at its feet, and Scarlet would manage its motility from above. Towards the end, the large demon finally let loose a cry of defeat, and crumbled over, shaking the ground in a large _thud_ , as all three of them had to balance themselves from the shock waves. Swirls of ash and fire whipped around them, until nothing was left except for a brightly flickering red soul, and the massive, stone weapon.

Siegward sat down, breathing heavily.

"That was quite the performance. But you musn't get in over your head. We Unkindled must put our duties first. But for the moment, we've a toast to make." He produced an ale cup, unhooking it from a strap around his ridiculously round armor. Snapping the lid off, he held it high. "To your valour, my sword, and our victory together."

He looked between her and him. "Oh dear, it appears you do not have your own Siegbrau. That will not do…" She heard clinking, as he fussed with his armor, accessing a small compartment, of sorts, on the side. He produced two more, sealed cups with handles. He leaned forward, handing them both each. Reaching his hand up, he proceeded with his toast, as he took his massive helmet off. A jovial, tanner face, with rosy cheeks came into view, adorned with a pencil mustache.

"Long may the Sun shine!" He lifted his head back, downing the entire contents. Scarlet looked at her drink, and carefully unlatched the lid. A strong wave of alcohol slapped her in the face, and she squinted her eyes, downing a mouthful out of courtesy. Grimacing, she swallowed the bitter contents in one gulp.

She looked over to Randull. He was turned away from her, his visor up, drinking the entire cup. Her eyes glanced back at Siegward, who had put his helmet back on.

"Well, I'm going to have myself a little nap. The only thing to do, really, after a nice toast." He laughed, and she watched as his head slowly dipped. Moments later, light snoring could be heard from the round figure.

She felt Randull walk up next to her, padding her back. "Good job, my friend. Not sure what I would do without you." She smelled the alcohol rolling off his breath.

Her head slowly turned to the right, her voice full of dry sarcasm. "Nothing. You would be doing nothing, because you would be dead."

He laughed. "Come on, I think you deserve this soul…"


	5. Chapter 5

They had looped back to the bonfire located inside the cliff side of the Undead Settlement. Randull groaned in frustration; it was obvious he wanted to progress. However, they had picked up some strange, and unusual, items along their slight detour.

Not to mention the burning, large soul in Scarlet's hand. She knelt next to him, as they both touched the hilt of the handle of the charred sword in the bonfire, transporting themselves back to the shrine.

"Ashen one…"

Scarlet didn't even look up; she walked to the ascending stairs to the left, heading towards Ludleth. The large soul flickered in and out, exuberating a low heat. Even in death, the fire demon refused to be extinguished. She edged herself over the platform, next to his throne, walking around the side to face him.

"Happen upon any twisted souls?"

Scarlet nodded, as she stuck her hands out with the cradled soul. Ludleth brought out the purplish crystal orb, gazing at the soul through the distorted image the globe produced. He hummed.

"Thou'sth cannot use such gifts, I am afraid. Tis better spent by other means. The avian needs strength, not, for it is burdensome to their nature."

She recoiled her hands, in confusion. He motioned at her, dismissively, but still giving her a comforting smile. "Now do take care, lest a foul discontent spread. Other souls possess powers more akin to your nature. Seek them, my child."

She put the flickering soul back in her satchel, unsure as what to do with it. Looking down, she saw Randull kneeling in front of the Firekeeper. A light haze covered him, as she whispered an ancient language. Once it settled, he stood back up, grasping both her hands in his.

She sighed, her heart still aching a little. Not from longing for him, but perhaps…loneliness? She shrugged, facing the platform to climb up again. A familiar glove appeared in her vision. Her eyes closed, as she released a languid breath, and put her hands in his, letting him pull her up.

Randull would be occupied for some time…

[-]

"My lady, why must you adorn yourself in a mask, such as myself?"

They were behind the large throne at the top, where Leonhard typically resided. Why she agreed to go with him, or why she still remained, she was unsure. Perhaps it was curiosity? At least he had quit referring to her as "little mouse" every sentence.

Her eyes peered at him through the holes. "Because…my face is deformed."

He walked to her, his hands held behind his back, as he leaned towards her. "Have you ever _seen_ your reflection?"

She slowly shook her head.

He reached out, cautiously gripping the edge of her mask. He pushed her cowl back, and lifted the silver piece. Her red hair spilled out, cascading down her shoulders, as her eyes locked onto his, panicked. She felt as though her blood was thinner with the absence of the mask. It made her gasp. His left hand positioned itself under her chin.

"Such a tragedy to deny this cursed land of one of the last remnants of beauty. You are far from deformed, little mouse."

He nicked her chin, dropping his hand, as he handed her the mask. He stepped back to his usual position against the upper throne's pedestal. "If I could be so bold as to make a request, my lady?"

Her head tilted, as she looked at him curiously. "Yes, of course?"

"Please refrain from covering your face in my presence." His eyes glanced back towards hers, as a blush spread across her cheeks. A small, sweet smile formed on her lips. She looked at the mask in her hands, debating if she should still wear it around others. It had started to become a part of her.

"Randull said my features were…unique. What is wrong with them?"

She heard a chuckle, as he tilted his head away from her, his eyes glancing to the hollowed Unkindled below, speaking to the blind Firekeeper, who knew no better. "Nothing, my lady. You are not from these lands. The coloring of your hair, your skin…your eyes. I believe that is all your dimwitted companion meant, in his ever so _eloquent_ way."

She placed her fingers over her eyebrows, still getting used to the open air caressing her skin. She looked at the mask in her hands. It was slightly, _ugly_. She frowned, letting it drop on the ground. Glancing up, she saw him looking at her, with his head still tilted to the side. She blushed again, turning away as she tried to regain her composure, nervously stuffing her hands in her satchels.

An image of red flashed in her mind, as her fingers stumbled across rough surfaces. "Oh! I almost forgot…" She pulled out the red stones he had given her some time ago. She held them in her outstretched palm, stepping near his leaning form.

"I have never figured out what these are, nor their functionality. Thank you for giving them to me, but you may have them back. I am afraid they are no more use to me than a pebble."

He looked at her hand, and straightened his posture, taking a step towards her. He closed her hand with his, his gaze intensifying. Her counterpart had finally taken notice of her absence, and was rushing up the stairs.

"Then let me show you." His hand clamped down on her closed palm and she felt them shatter beneath her skin. Her mouth fell open, as she looked up at him in shock; his blue eyes wide with excitement. A red haze began to cover them.

"Scarlet! What's going on?!"

She turned to see Randull running towards them, as her vision faded to black. A flash of light and a blurry image appeared, slowly coming into focus. She was…where was she?

She felt something move against her hand, and she looked down, seeing the roguish man's hand still holding hers. He was covered in a dark, haze of red, which outlined his entire body. She began to see the redness spreading over hers. Panic set in.

"Oh, oh god! What did you do?!" She yanked her hand out of his grasp, putting both of them in her hair, a behavior that felt natural, although she had no memory of ever doing it before. She heard him chuckle.

He bowed, in a regal gesture. "Welcome, little mouse, to your first invasion. Perhaps we can make a timid kitten of you yet."

She glanced around, taking in the new area she found herself in. It was a room, with a doorway to the right and ascending steps to the left. Through the doorway, she saw a massively open space of stone tiling, leading down into a large courtyard. In the distance, she saw mountains shimmering in moonlight. A coldness began to seep through her attire, and she shivered, rubbing her shoulders.

Her eyes snapped to the rogue. "Exactly, _who_ are you?"

He laughed, a sinister tone intermixed. "I serve Rosaria, the Mother of Rebirth, as the Ringfinger."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "That sounds awfully… _disturbing_."

He chuckled again, walking close to her, as he reached his hand out, running a gloved finger down the side of her face. "Perhaps…"

He grabbed her shoulders, throwing her to the other side of the room, as a blue light flew past where her head was, hitting the wall and erupting into a glimmering display of sparks. She saw Leonhard unsheathe the curved sword off his left hip and charge towards a robed figure in the doorway. The person ducked behind the other side.

Scarlet was unsure what she should do. She was not a killer, and did not enjoy taking lives. It was only when there was no choice. She heard the clang of swords hitting, and sprinted out the doorway after the two men.

A flash of blue light shot out of the staff the man was holding, barely missing Leonhard as he dodged behind a large planter. She found a spot behind a large statue, watching the battle before her. Back and forth, the two would zig-zag between the various objects that adorned the pathway. Leonhard would time his strikes, in between the casting from the large staff the robed man held up, then retreat before being hit by a massive blue spark.

She felt something nearby, and turned her head. A large, _thing_ was standing next to her. Its eyes have long been rotted out, as its bloated face contorted into a snarl. Sickening, razor sharp teeth came into few, as it lifted its bloated hand up, holding some sort of sharp staff. The large man was clothed in heavily embroidered, thick robes, which drug on the ground.

She gasped, stepping back. She did not have any weapons on her, and her skills at melee defense were horrible. Her hands raised over her head, readying herself for the impending attack.

She saw a figure move in fast, followed by the sickening grunt of the large man-creature. Leonhard's curved sword removed itself from the chest, as he pushed the dying corpse onto the ground. His eyes glanced to hers, and she saw a look of concern cross them.

One of the blue sparks slammed into Leonhard's chest, sending him flying backwards. She sprinted towards him, seeing the steam rise, as it synched his armor and skin. He coughed, blood trickling out from underneath his mask. She put her hands on his shoulders, as he convulsed, holding him steady. The man walked close to him, raising his staff, preparing to finish him off.

"No, please!" She reached her hands out above the incapacitated rogue on the ground.

The man lowered the staff, tilting his head as he looked at her curiously. She lifted the rogue in her lap, her hands cradling him like a child. The hole in his chest continued to burn; the disarray of cloth mixed with blood and guts visible.

"How strange. You are an invader, are you not?"

She looked down at her arms wrapped around Leonhard, keeping him upright. His hands were gripped around her forearms; he was in immense pain, gasping for breath. "I am marked as such…willing or unwilling, I suppose it matters not."

Her hands lifted his mask, as she saw Leonhard's eyes glaze over. His face was heavily scarred…it looked to be from a fire. The right side appearing to have sustained more damage than the left. His right lip curled slightly, showing a bit of the teeth underneath. It was an injury from some time ago, as the skin had tried to repair itself.

Suddenly, his eyes focused, gazing into hers. For a brief moment, she saw panic, before they rolled back into his head. His form began to disintegrate, and she found herself holding ash, as she had with Randull before. Her head sagged, and she rummaged through the still burning ash, finding the fiercely burning, dark red soul of Leonhard.

The man crouched next to her. "He would have killed me, had he not decided to protect you instead."

She looked at the burning soul, as a tear fell from her eye, making a slow trail down her cheeks. The man reached out, catching the tear. Her eyes snapped up, making contact with his. His face had the same cloth covering that she used to wear. Deep blue eyes stared back at her, with thick, intense eyebrows. Some wavy, blonde hair poked out around the edges of the cowl over his head.

"This land…it is not meant for those with soft-hearts. But…it is refreshing to see, none the less."

He stood up. "I dare say you do not know how to return?"

She cradled his soul in her hands, shaking her head as she continued to look downwards. He reached in a satchel on his side, rummaging for something. After a few moments, he pulled out a black crystal, in the shape of a pointed cylinder. It was wrapped in a sort of cloth, with markings on it.

"Stick out your hand." She reached out slowly, her palm turned upwards. He put the crystal in her hand and pushed her fingers over it. She started to feel a warm tingle in her palm, which began to spread.

His image started to fade, and he bowed to her. "Take care, my soft-hearted friend. Until fate decides that we shall meet again…"

She found herself back at the shrine. In front of her was Leonhard, leaning up in his usual position. He straightened his posture, walking to her in a direct fashion.

"Making acquaintances with the enemy?" His hand reached out, sliding over her palm as he took possession of his soul. His eyes refused to look at hers, as he walked back to the pedestal, crushing it. A red glow enclosed around his silhouette.

"Scarlet!" She snapped her head to the side, seeing Randull sprinting up the steps towards her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight. "I was looking for you everywhere."

His head turned towards the rogue, as Randull drew his sword, readying himself to make a deadly blow. She held his wrist back. "Randull, leave him be."

She felt his arm twitch a few times, before he finally withdrew, sheathing his sword. He pointed towards Leonhard. "You do that again and I'll shove my sword through your gullet."

A bombastic laugh resonated throughout the shrine, as Leonhard motioned his hand outwards, towards to the two. "I look forward to the challenge, _ashen one_." Randull grabbed Scarlet's arm, pushing her forward, as he directed her down the steps.

"Scurry along, little mouse…"

[-]

"So, the person you invaded, he helped you out, instead of killing you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I look too pathetic to be a killer."

He chuckled, nodding his head. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything…"

They were back at the elevator shaft in the tower where they met Siegward. They had managed to free Irina, who was forever grateful. Her companion, on the other hand...Randull just hoped Eygon wouldn't make it a regular routine to show up at the shrine.

He glanced at Scarlet. "I'm glad you quit wearing that mask."

She touched her face. "I still don't know what I look like."

"Is that why you covered your face?"

"Yes…I am still unsure if it is deformed. Leonhard said it wasn't, but he is not always truthful."

"You thought you were deformed? I…I'm sorry. I would have told you, had I known."

"Told me what?"

"That you weren't deformed. You are, actually, quite nice to look at."

She shook her head, blushing. "While I appreciate your kind words, I believe the Firekeeper should be bestowed the honor of those types of descriptions."

"Ah, yes. She is the most gorgeous thing I have ever laid eyes upon, this is true." His voice was filled with a sweetness that made her instinctively grin.

The bottom platform rose, and they both stepped on. Scarlet loaded a bolt in her crossbow; she swore she had heard strange growls from the depths below.

"I have never seen your face. Are you deformed?"

"Not deformed, however, I would advise against viewing my features. Unless you insist, of course."

She smiled, the rush of the air causing her hair to blow in her face. She spat some out, desperately trying to find something to tie it back. "Nonsense! There is nothing about you that I could dislike. Go ahead." She busied tying her hair up, as she gazed at him, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.

He sighed, slowly lifting his visor. Her eyes went from a crinkled, ecstatic look, to widened with shock.

"Oh… _shit_. How long?"

He snapped his visor back down. "Since Yoel, for the most part. He teased something out of me. Something ancient and powerful."

Her eyes narrowed, as she frowned. "Then he might need to _tease_ it back into you." She looked to the side. "Oh, wait, he's dead. What about the arrogant bitch?"

He laughed, loudly, the sounds echoing. "Yuria? I doubt she would be willing to reverse the darkness."

"Darkness?" Scarlet's lips formed a sarcastic grin. "I dare say someone is contemplating a different path, is he not?"

"You know me too well, my dear."

The elevator clicked, and the platform came to a halt at a stone chamber below.

She stepped off cautiously, and through the doorway in front. It connected to a large, grandiose room, with many pillars lining the sides. It appeared to be abandoned. Randull readied his sword and shield next to her, gazing out over the empty space.

"This place gives me an uneasy feeling…"

He nodded, pushing ahead. They slowly descended the small, spiral staircase, heading deeper into the ruins below. She tailed behind him, glancing into the dark corners and high recesses. They were about ready to emerge through another doorway, when her eyes caught the glimpse of something shimmering in the distance. She grabbed Randull's arm, yanking him back against the wall.

She put her arm over his chest, as they flattened themselves against it. A low, growling rumble come from the other room, and the clink of armor was near. Her breath was suddenly visible, and a cold chill ran over her spine, causing her to shiver.

Whatever it was…it was _massive_. She heard it sniff a few times, before it became satisfied that nothing was there, and turned back from the doorway. Randull grabbed her hand, and carefully drug her back to the elevator room.

"Do you know what that is?" Her eyes were slightly panicked, as the adrenaline flowed through her veins.

His head tilted towards the side. "I…well, I _think_ it's a Boreal knight. What it is doing _here_ …that's another question."

"How do we kill it?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. These things…they were once men, part of the elite guard of the Pontiff. They were the best of the best. If they are beasts now, we don't stand a chance…"

She scratched her head, blankly looking at the elevator platform. A squeak of a rat resonated from below. An idea struck her.

"We bait it, and trick it into falling down this shaft."

"How?"

She looked down at her cross bow in hand. "I'll shoot it from a distance, and run to you. When I get close, you hit the switch, and catch me when I jump."

He shook his head. "There is no way that's going to work."

She put her hand on her hip. "Really? Got a better idea?"

His head moved around. She heard the sucking of air in through his teeth, a common habit he had when under _mental duress_. "If you die, it's not my fault. I also get to keep your souls."

Her eyes narrowed. "You… _are also an asshole_." She turned, heading down the steps, her crossbow ready and aimed. "Just prepare yourself."

He laughed, walking to the platform, crossing his arms as he waited for her plan to fail.

She edged herself along the outer wall of the chamber, trying to get a wide view into the room where the "knight" resided. She heard the tell-tale clanking sounds of its armor. A bright, blue image popped into her vision, and she saw a massive humanoid creature, crawling around on all fours. She patiently waited, as it kept a patterned patrol, up and down a set of stairs.

She locked her crossbow into her shoulder for support, and let a bolt fly. The creature screeched; its sights immediately locking in on her. She saw it sprint at a speed that should be impossible for its size. She barely had enough time to move, before it crashed into the wall where she was standing.

Adrenaline flowed through her, and she ran as fast as she could up the stairs. She saw Randull hit the switch on the elevator, his arms stretched to catch her. The sounds of the clanking behind her were growing nearing, as the screeches and roars of the beast filled the entire building.

"Jump!"

She jumped, missing his hand, and grabbing the platform. He fell to his knees, grabbing her arm, holding onto her before she plummeted to her death. She looked down; the knight jumped, trying to grab her, and found itself tumbling down the void below her feet. Her eyes widened.

"Randull! I looked..."

She felt him tugging at her, grunting. "Scarlet! You're caught…I can't get you…"

Her mind was frozen. The void below her grew even larger, encompassing the entire bottom chamber. Cold sweat formed on her forehead and hands. Her stomach churned, as her breathing became erratic.

"Whoa!"

She felt the sharp pain of something cut through her arms, as well as the familiar feel of gravity, as she plummeted to her death. Her body hit the side of one of the walls, and the last thing she remembered was impacting the floor.

Randall grimaced, dropping her arms on the wooden floor.

 _She would not be happy._

He almost had gotten his own head cut off from the side of the stone opening for the elevator shaft for the first floor. He hit the switch, heading back down to the bottom level. Her arms finally disintegrated, and he breathed in relief. He may be partially hollowed, but that did not mean he enjoyed lingering around body parts.

The bottom level was a mess. However, her soul burned bright, flickering with its greenish hue. He also noticed something bright on the other side.

"Well, well, look at what we have here."

It was dropped by the Boreal knight. A sword, glistening with a constant freeze. He picked it up, swiping it around a few times. The lightness felt better to him than his current, bulky broadsword. Plus, it was enchanted. He made a few lunges with it, practicing some of the defending, counter attacks with his shield. He took his time, adjusting to the new weapon; it would be some time before she returned.

Finally, the elevator clicked to go up. He sheathed his new weapon, and leaned up against the doorway. A few minutes later, the fiery red-head appeared. On her face was a look of incredulousness.

"Really…you couldn't pull me up?"

He spread his arms out. "What?! You were caught! I can't do _everything_ , you know."

She rolled her eyes, and walked to her splattered remains, cupping her soul, and crushing it. A soothing, green haze surrounded her, and she breathed in, relieved. She turned to face him.

"So…did it drop anything?"

He shrugged his shoulders, making a rotating movement with his hand. "No, not really. Mostly garbage."

She rubbed her hand over her face, as she looked at the ceiling. "Right, so when did your broadsword suddenly get thinner and more…frosty?"

He laughed, clasping his hands together.

"Onwards, dear companion!"

She groaned, irritated.

[-]

He had two Corvians, screeching and swiping at him with large scythes. His vision looked back up at the ridge behind him, in desperation.

Scarlet had her left hand in the air, flipping her palm over, then back. Was she…

 _Looking at her nails?_

"What the hell are you doing?!"

He dodged, almost getting decapitated. A backwards slash allowed him to cut one of the wings, and a putrid liquid squirted out. The creature enraged, coming at him with insane fury.

"Well, since you do _everything_ …I figured you could handle this!" She picked at some dirt underneath, and blew.

He was knocked back, as a scythe cut across his armor, causing it to fold inwards. If he wasn't hollowed, he was positive it would have punctured his skin. The Corvian let out a horrible yell, lifting its great weapon up, as it prepared for the killing move.

A burning bolt landed straight through its head. Behind it, another bolt embedded itself into the second, mutated crow-man. He heard humming, and slow, languid footsteps as she made her way down the trail.

She arrived to his spread-out form, and stepped over him, crouching next to the dead body of the Corvian nearby, and swiping its soul. She slowly walked towards the second corpse, repeating the process. In the distance, she fired a few more bolts, which were followed up by the tell-tale death screech of the local denizens.

She turned back to him. "Like my new bolts? I ran into Siegward on the way back to recover my body, from my _unfortunate_ fall. You know what? He gave me these fire bolts. _For free…because I'm his friend._ "

She looked over at his crumpled armor, making a low whistling noise. "Hmm, looks like you might have a bit of a repair bill. You've saved up all those souls from before, right? Oh well, way to be a good sport though!" She gave him a thumbs-up, then continued walking forward, her crossbow over shoulder.

He watched her, as she would occasionally fire a bolt, hitting a Corvian with deadly accuracy. Before long, everything in the ravine was dead, and she disappeared, towards ruins on the other side. He pulled himself up, dusting off the dirt caked on his armor, and followed after her…cursing himself.


	6. Chapter 6

He grunted at her.

Scarlet's eyebrows hit her hairline.

"Oh, yes, Horace...he's not very talkative, but don't think ill of him. He's an upstanding, kind-hearted knight, a fine partner for this grueling journey. Without his help, I would have cursed this onerous duty long ago."

She looked at the other, fully armored individual in the ruins they found themselves in. It was a rotunda, of sorts. How old, or what it was originally used for, she had no clue. The most important thing was that it had a bonfire.

 _And it felt wonderful._

"Right." She looked back at the grunting man. His armor was large and fearsome, making him look like a giant. He had given Randull a piece of parchment earlier, which was apparently a symbol of a benevolent covenant. However, she felt nothing but a lingering ominousness around him. It made her uncomfortable.

"Anri, why do you seek Aldrich?" Randull had his arms crossed in front of him, speaking with the woman, leaning in close, as though they were long-standing familiars. Scarlet observed from her position to the side. She could see why she had fallen for him in the beginning; he was quite flirtatious, by nature.

The woman shook her head. "No, my friend, I am afraid I am unable to share that information, as of yet. However, be satisfied that we are both seekers of Lords. The next time we cross paths, one may find the other in a time of need. May the flames guide your way."

Randull motioned for Scarlet, and she walked over as he knelt next to the bonfire. She followed suit, and he leaned in, lifting his visor up, so he could whisper near her face. She tried diverting her focus to the ground, as not to keep staring at his dried skin and hollowed features. Not that it mattered, he had no eyes.

"I am unsure about those two, but I sense the one with no tongue is nearer to losing his sanity."

She leaned in, whispering back. "The grunter?"

He nodded.

"I agree. So do we just avoid them for now?"

Randull turned his head back a little, looking at the two individuals in question. "That's exactly what my plan is."

She bit her lip, thinking. "Hey…Randull?"

His head turned back at her, the empty spaces where his eyes should be, staring in her direction. "Yeah?"

"How in the hell do you see?" She was still whispering.

His face had no emotion, and an awkward silence lingered. He shrugged. "I simply do."

He had been debating about buying the "Untrue" ring from Yuria. It was commonly used back in Londor, or _had_ been commonly used. Either or, he preferred to avoid the awkward questions, such as what he was experiencing at that moment.

Plus, his family had always bolstered good looks, desired by many. To run around hollowed…

Scarlet looked at him, frowning. She was expecting a better answer, even if it was something as simple as a specific magic spell. How he could see with no visual organs, or the connective nerves and tissues, was simply _fascinating_.

She glanced off to the side; sometimes, she wondered where she knew some of the information she took as fact. For example: biological functions. She looked around; nothing in this place seemed to make sense to her, but at the same time, it did.

Her interests had started to drift over into the "arcane". She wanted to know more about magic, and how one would go about using it. Randull was your average fighter; hit it with a sword, block it with a shield. She had never once seen him use a staff or a talisman.

Her hand felt in her pocket, wrapping her fingers around the leathery parchment the man with the staff had given her back during the invasion. She wanted to speak to him again, to ask him these questions, but she did not know how. Was it just random? Would she have to invade, and hope to stumble into his world or reality, again? She would have asked Randull, but his mood would sour whenever you brought up the word "invasion".

They stood up, making their way out of the rotunda, and stepping on the trail that lead to a…

 _Swamp._

She frowned as the occasional smell of decay drifted by her nose.

"It's either rotting bodies, or rotting vegetation. Is anything left that's nice, anymore?"

His helmet slowly turned towards her, tilting to the side. "Pardon me, my lady. I will make sure your future exploits are only in pleasant locations, with mild weather constraints."

Her frown deepened. He was in a mood. She knew she shouldn't have asked about his lack of eyes.

She squinted, loading up her crossbow. Some figures wavered in the distance. All of them appeared to be carrying around large, wooden stakes, aimlessly wandering along haphazard paths.

They continued down the trail, rounding the corner. At the end of the stretch of path, one of the local denizens spotted them, letting out an inhuman yell as they moved the stake into a thrusting position, and sprinted forward. She let a bolt fly, watching as it impaled itself through their eye socket. The deranged man made a series of croaks, crumbling to the ground shortly after.

Her pocket began to feel warm and she stuck her hand in it. The parchment was hot. She took it out, staring at it; the symbol was a shimmering, light blue. Her eyes caught someone red down below. She narrowed her eyes, making out a…

She grabbed Randull, pointing him in the direction of the invader. "Is that a _man_?"

He squinted his eyes, making out the figure. Oh, yes…he had seen that before…

"Unfortunately, that _is_ a person, my friend. It looks like one of your rogue's associates have decided to pay us a visit."

She looked at him, her eyebrow raised. " _My rogue_?"

"Seems to be, whether you want it or not."

She snorted, crossing her arms in irritation. Randull unsheathed his sword, and prepared to receive the invader, busily running up the pathway. They had a giant, lopsided, mummified hat on; roughly two or three feet in length. It was quite bizarre. She wondered how they maintained balance.

A spell collided with his shield, and Scarlet run backwards, hiding behind some rock in order to load up her crossbow. Randull took a swipe, and the invader dodged it, running back down. The local mad men were becoming riled up. For some reason, they were unable to see the reddish figure, and she dodged in and out of their sporadic walking paths.

"Scarlet, can you take out the men, clearing me a decent area to fight this annoyance?"

She grinned, already firing a bolt, hitting her target dead on. One after another she took out the cluster of stake men, watching as their bodies crumpled into the swampy water below. The invader fired a spell at her, and she ducked, barely missing it.

Randull took off, charging after them. She reached for her bolt bag, and felt nothing.

 _Oh no…_

A hand was placed on her shoulder, and she jerked her head to the side in a panic.

Familiar, deep blue eyes stared down at her, a blue haze covering his robed form.

"We meet again, my soft-hearted friend." A radiant smile crossed her lips, as she stood up. He grabbed her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"How?"

He chuckled. "My dear, my covenant responds when those we protect are threatened." He looked up, catching the sight of Randull attempting to fight a Finger below. "And it appears that you are being threatened."

He pushed past her, heading towards the two figures engaged in a combat in the murky water. She reaching in her back satchel, pulling out her cheaper, but less effective, bolts, loading one up.

She saw the familiar blue ball of light fire from his staff, and the tall-hat invader dodge, running deeper into the swamp water. The two men followed. Scarlet scanned the area, noticing something big coming their way. She fired at it, watching as he bolt bounced off the giant crab's shell.

"Get out of the water!"

She sprinted down, waiving her hands. The invader fired at her from the side, and the blast impacted her, sending her face down into the mud. Pain flared and she groaned in agony.

Randull took this time to plummet his sword through the invader's chest. He heard a female grunt, as he kicked them off the end of his sword, watching them crash into the water. He sprinted ahead, dodging the swipe of the large crab, as it narrowed in on him.

Scarlet felt weightlessness. Her eyes were partially closed, as she grimaced from the constant pain. Her arm latched around a clothed neck, and she pulled herself close, trying to keep her breathing steady. It was beginning to burn in her left lung.

Moments later she felt the soothing heat from the bonfire, and the pain began to recede. A figure took their place next to her, and she glanced over, a smirk on her face. She saw his eyes crinkle in response, and he fumbled in one of his satchels, bringing out an estus. His hand removed his cloth covering, and he took a swig of his flash. He breathed in deeply, letting out a languid sigh.

She couldn't help but stare. He was quite handsome. It was a surprise.

"Not what you expected." His eyes crinkled again, and he looked at her with a charming grin.

She shyly turned away, trying to hide her blush.

He put the cork in his flask, placing it back into his satchel. He slowly stood on his feet.

"Well, my friend. I dare say my time here is nearing an end."

She jumped up, panicked, grabbing onto his arm. "No, no! You can't leave. I have so many questions…"

He took a step closer to her, as to straighten his stance towards her. She tilted her head up, realizing how close they were. He stared at her face, his eyes glancing over her features. Some of his wavy blonde hair had found its way out from under his hood. She reached up, twirling the thick locks, and pushing them back under the cloth.

"What did you want to ask?"

His voice was lowered and soft. Her mind went blank, as all she could do was stare into his eyes, finding herself lose her sense of time, where she was…everything.

The blue haze sparked, and he pulled back, reaching into his pockets, pulling out a rigid piece of parchment. He handed it to her.

"Soapstone. Look for this symbol, here." His hand moved and he placed a palm on her cheek, before he disappeared into a blue fog.

She stood there, stunned, the piece of parchment in her hand. She finally blinked.

"Tsk, tsk, a certain rogue is _not_ going to be thrilled."

She closed her eyes, sighing in irritation.

[-]

"No, I will not buy you an ember, just so you can summon that spell caster you fancy."

She shoved her hand over his wrinkled lips and mouth, through his visor. Her eyes glanced up to the top level of the shrine. Leonhard was still leaning up against it, taking no interest in the happenings below. She sighed, as her eyes narrowed back at her companion.

"Will you keep your big mouth shut? I already have enough problems, I don't need to add _that_ …" she motioned upwards, "to the list."

He chuckled. He was having way too much fun teasing her. It was far too easy, and far too rewarding. He also despised Leonhard. He wanted to rub it in that pretentious shmuck's face.

Scarlet though...she would be devastated. He sighed, reaching into his satchel and pulling out an ember. He stuck his palm out, grabbing her hand.

"Here. Don't waste them, they are not easy to come by." She cradled the ember, her eyes sparkling in excitement. He put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up. "Be careful, Scarlet. And don't forget to buy your bolts first."

She nodded her head, putting the burning ember into her satchel, as she dug around for the few souls she had picked up off the Corvians. Hopefully they would be enough. The hand maiden was not a very sincere woman, but she did possess some good items. However, she preferred to buy what she could from Greirat. She skipped off towards the lower depths, anxious to finish up and head back to the ruins.

[-]

The ember just laid there in her palm. Anri and Horace had moved on, so she stood in the decrepit rotunda alone. She sighed in frustration, blowing a few strands of her unruly hair out of her face.

Maybe…it was like those red stones? She put her other palm over the ember and squeezed. It felt hot, and suddenly a flame burst forward, shooting up and down her form. She yelped, falling over on her rear. An invigorating rush spread through her nervous system, and she giggled. She looked at the ground, suddenly seeing glowing symbols appear all over. Her eyes widened.

"Wow."

She looked down at herself. She saw burning wisps spread around her clothing, fading in and out. She touched one spot on her arm, and it merely faded away, reforming an inch above her finger. Her eyes glanced at the symbols again, and she pulled out the crumpled parchment he had handed her.

Her eyes squinted, and her eyebrows crunched. _This would be difficult…_

She heard a crunch of leaves in the distance. Her head swerved towards the direction that led down into the swampy part. Nothing. Her curiosity peaked, and she stood up, walking over to make sure.

Her eyes scanned over the landscape. She saw nothing. No red haze, no blue haze, no deranged denizens…nothing.

She hummed to herself and turned to head back to the bonfire. There were so many symbols scattered all around. She looked at what was in her hand, stepping over the glowing letters, crossing a dirt line through those that didn't match. After a few minutes, she started to become frustrated, and took a break, sitting next to an old stump.

Her eyes glanced to the side, and she glazed over, before snapping back to reality. That was it! But it was…purple?

She shrugged, leaning over it, unsure what to do. She crouched, falling on her knees, as she placed both hands on the lettering. It started to slowly grow warmer, until it flickered. She rocked back on her feet, standing up.

A figure formed, rising from the symbol, before they were fully at height. Details slowly materialized. It was him! She smiled, elated, looking up into his face, although it was covered in a purple haze. His eyes crinkled, as he looked down on her.

"I see you discovered how to summon, my soft-hearted friend."

She nodded, still smiling at him. She heard a chuckle, and saw him pull his staff out. Her eyes widened and she unconsciously stepped backwards. Her stomach suddenly churned, as his eyes went from a jovial expression, to that of madness. He raised his staff, and she saw the low glowing blue light of a spell being readied. She reached behind her for her crossbow.

Nothing.

 _She had forgotten it back at the shrine…_

Her eyes looked back at him with an expression of betrayal and sadness. He only laughed in response.

"Why the somber look? I have told you before, this is a land not for the soft of heart. All I want is one of your vertebrae. It won't hurt… _much_."

He stepped towards her, and she raised her arms to shield her head. She saw the familiar curve of a sword plunge through his chest, thrusting upwards. Blood poured out of his mouth, and his eyes flashed from madness, to regret. He reached a hand out towards her as he fell to his knees.

"Forgive…me…"

His form began to disintegrate, and a plain white soul was left in the ashes. A gloved hand, surrounded in a red haze, gripped the crystal, and she followed it up, until she was staring at a silver mask.

He put the crystal in his satchel, then sheathed his sword. His light, blue eyes locked with hers. They were stern, intimidating.

"The mound-makers are of a mad sort, my lady. However, some lessons are best learned through experience. I doubt you would have trusted the word of this _rogue_."

She winced.

He frowned to himself under the mask. She knew no better. She was inexperienced and easily gullible. His eyes softened, and he lightened up his approach.

"Tell me, why did you summon him, if I may ask?"

She looked to the side, her cheeks turning red. "Because he, well…"

She frowned, and turned from him, scratching the back of her head. She was embarrassed. Some random person showed her a tiny bit of kindness, some attention, and she threw all caution to the wind. She was lucky Leonhard showed up…

 _Wait a minute…_

Her eyes snapped to his. "Why are you here?"

His eyes sparkled a bit. "To invade, why else?" He reached out, placing his fingers under her chin, nicking it.

She couldn't help but smile, turning away from him with a slight blush.

"If Randull was here, he would have already threatened to stab you, and then dragged me off."

He laughed, walking past her, gazing out over the ruined, border wall of Farron Keep.

"Your companion has good reason to dislike me. I cannot fault him for wanting to protect you."

She rubbed her arms, as she followed him. "What happened?"

He turned to her, his eyes holding a mischievous expression. "I've invaded him…on more than one occasion. However, I do not think it is the invading, itself, that upsets him. It is the simple fact that I always _win_."

She blurted a laugh out, by accident, quickly covering her mouth, and turning away from him. Giggles kept erupting, and she finally put her hands on her knees, letting the laughter roll out.

"Oh…" She kept giggling, as she straightened her stance, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Yeah…that sounds like him."

He moved to some crumbled stone, and sat against it, keeping his arms crossed. In the distance, he saw the remnants of an old graveyard and the tell-tale twitch of lycanthrope, hiding in wait for an ambush.

"The area we currently reside in garnered the infamous name 'Crucifixion Woods'. The cavernous pathway behind us is titled the Road of Sacrifices, which continued through the wooden marshes before us. Many died on this perilous journey, and the bodies were deposited off to the side, as the caravans were forced to continue their macabre journey to the Cathedral. The marked graves you see are only a fraction of what lies beneath our feet."

A somber mood washed over her, and she looked around with an expression of sadness. A thought crossed his mind; a question he had been intent on asking for quite some time.

"Why did you lift my mask?"

Her eyes snapped to his, and a sly grin formed on her lips. "Curiosity, although I imagine that emotion is more akin to cats, than mice."

He chuckled, his eyes glancing away from hers, back to the bonfire. It rippled. _He_ was coming.

Leonhard stood up. "My lady, it has been a pleasure." He bowed, sticking his hand in his satchel and wrapping his fingers around the black crystal. She stood there with a smile, her head tilted to the side, as his image dissipated. The crunch of dirt and clanking of armor originated behind her.

"So, how did it go with the magician?" He held her crossbow out, with an extra satchel of bolts, since he still felt guilty for earlier.

She turned around, taking the items and shrugging her shoulders. "Turns out, he was an asshole."

[-]

"There has to be another way to access that gate, from the other side. Maybe we needed to head across the marsh, where the two people in black armor were?"

They were currently stuck within the multi-floored ruins, on the way to the Cathedral of the Deep. Randull had desired to rid this land of Aldrich, as soon as possible. How such a corrupt and honor-less creature became a Lord of Cinder was beyond him…

"Those were Exiled Knights, and it will take a lot more skill to defeat them, I'm afraid."

She frowned, sighing. It bothered her. The blue, stone lizard was intriguing, and she was anxious to find out more about it. Something moved out of the corner of her eye, up a few levels. She squinted her eyes.

"Randull…I think there's someone up there." She pointed, pulling him closer to her. He lifted his visor, narrowing his eyes. She looked at his face, glancing up and down.

"It's…different, to see you like this."

His grey eyes locked with hers, a smug smile crossing his lips. "Like what you see?" He winked.

She glared at him, her expression displaying that of a dubious nature. "You paid, _how much_ , because of your vanity?"

He frowned, his eyes widening a bit as he raised an eyebrow. "And you paid, _how much_ , for that hideous mask you don't even wear anymore?"

She scoffed. "I thought I was deformed, that's _not_ the same thing."

He took off the ring, and his hollowed face reappeared. He waived his hand in front of his head. "And, _this_ , isn't deformed?"

She grimaced, and bit her bottom lip. "Okay, you have a point. The Firekeeper is blind, though, why does it bother you?"

"Your rogue is disfigured, why did it bother you?"

Her eyes narrowed on him. "He's not _my rogue_. And how do you know if he's disfigured."

He put the ring back on, letting his facial features reappear. He turned to her, giving her an incredulous look. She rolled her eyes, turning away from him, while shaking her head in frustration.

He snapped his visor down. "Any idea how to get up there?"

She glanced back to the entrance they came through. "I think…there's a broken set of stairs to the left, of where we came into this room."

"Sounds good." He pushed past her, keeping his posture slightly bent, as they weaved in and out of the remaining pillars that supported the upper the level balcony. Towards the end of this chamber were a few corrupted sages, content to cast spells at anything that moved…even each other.

They hopped over some rubble around the outer edge of the room they were in, finding a derelict stairwell to the left. Scarlet pushed ahead, stepping slowly up the steps, her crossbow aimed and loaded, ready to take out any threats.

Her vision happened upon the man she saw from below. He looked up at her; large, brown eyes locked in, curiously. She lowered her weapon, giving Randull a 'it's clear' signal. He walked past her, heading towards their object of interest.

"Well, this is unexpected. I don't often have visitors."

Randull popped his visor open. "What a pleasure to meet you, good sir!" He bowed, one that she had seen him give Yuria. She rolled her eyes.

"What do you want? This is my study that you've happened upon."

Her eyes widened as a small grin crossed her lips. She looked around, noticing the massive quantity of scrolls, rolled up and crammed into wooden crates, that lined his 'study'. She wondered…

"What do I want? Do you typically greet those of non-hostile intentions as such?"

The man tilted his head, looking at Randull with his arms crossed. He appeared unenthused.

"If you haven't any business, I've reading to get back to…" Randull waived his arms in the air and walked past Scarlet, motioning her to follow. The man went back to leaning over his table, looking over some scattered pieces of parchment.

"Are you a sorcerer?"

His head raised, and he turned towards her. "Yes. I am Orbeck, of Vinheim. You have heard of it, perhaps?"

She shook her head, making her way towards him. An irritated sigh was heard from behind her. She ignored it. "No…but I am not from these lands."

He straightened his stance, looking at her. His arms crossed, and he began walking in a lazy circle, observing her from all angles. He was of average height, with longer, sleek black hair, which hung in his face. His skin tone was paler, and large, brown eyes exuded a sense of cold, calculating intelligence, that hid beneath. He wore plain, grey and black clothing, designed more for exploration and traveling, not combat. He adorned no armor, which was a rare sight to see.

"What it is you seek?"

Her head tilted. "I wish to learn sorceries."

He grinned, humming in response, as he made his way back to his table. "How intriguing…" He appeared to contemplate the situation before him in more detail, grabbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, as he kept his gaze over her form.

"Very well. Indeed, I am a sorcerer. With plenty to share." Her face lit up in enthusiasm, and a smile formed.

"However..." She rolled her eyes, frowning. _Here it comes…_

"What champion demands service without recompense? Clearly you are not that sort of woman." Her eyebrows rose, questioning.

"But…what could I give you? I do not have much."

He nodded, humming again, stretching his hand out in a gesture towards her. "You will make me a promise, then. In exchange for my teaching, you will bring me knowledge; in the form of scrolls detailing sorcery's secrets."

Her eyes displayed confusion and uncertainty. Scrolls? How would she know if one contained a long-lost secret? Where would she even _find_ any? She knew, absolutely, nothing about magic.

"Well? Can you assure me of this?"

She faked a smile, nodding. "Yes. I will bring you these scrolls."

A small grin formed on his face. "You are no fool, I take it you understand the weight of your promise. I shall teach you sorceries, and we will learn together. It shall be like our very own school."

He turned from her, reaching for a few satchels he had on the right side of the table.

"We will meet again, in Firelink shrine, my protégé." He waived a dismissive hand towards her. "On your way, then."

She smiled, swirling around and jogging to Randull, who was impatiently waiting at the top of the stairs with his arms crossed.

"He agreed to teach me! He's heading back to the shrine, right now."

Randull groaned, turning away from her to head down the steps.


	7. Chapter 7

They were sitting in front of the bonfire, in a chamber along the outer corridors of the Cathedral of the Deep. It was the first one they had reached after their treacherous journey from the old ruins, which housed the Crystal Sage. Scarlet absent-mindedly rubbed at her shoulder, along a large black burn that was charred into her skin. It spread out like lightning bolts down her back; a miscalculated dodge.

"It should go away with time. However, you might want to remove your armor and let the bonfire heal it directly. Otherwise, it will split open, scarring."

She groaned, thinking about how painful that would be. She stood up, unhooking the latches of her armor; it had been a long time since she had taken it off. Slowly, she eased her arms out, and hefted it over her shoulders. It scraped along the burn and she hissed.

She held up her armor. It had taken _a lot of abuse_. The bonfire could only do so much. She frowned.

"Don't worry, we have picked up many pieces of decent armor, by now. Surely, Andre can fit you with something new. I have been meaning to speak with you about upgrading, anyways."

She glanced to his metallic form on the floor. He had his arm propped up on his knee, in the usual position he also resorted to at the bonfires. It was the same armor he had worn since she first laid eyes upon him. "What about you?"

He stood up, slipping his gloves off, letting them fall at the sides. She saw the glimmer of the ring he wore, which kept his human illusion intact. She shook her head, slightly; why he insisted to keep wearing it around her…

"Now that you… _eh_ …mention it…"

He grunted, struggling to reach for the latches on the far, left side of his back. She walked over, holding him still, and started to unhook them. The metal slipped down, crashing to the floor in a loud clink. She looked at it, noticing the jagged internals that poked out at random positions. She glanced back at his bare torso and grimaced, sucking air through her teeth.

"Looking at you makes me hurt."

He rubbed his fingers along a deep, red groove that ran along his right side. "Yeah…I should have had Andre fit me."

She gave him a confused look. "Why didn't you?"

"I didn't like the idea of him touching me. Have you seen his hands?"

She ran her palm over her face, looking up at the ceiling.

He looked at the bonfire. "Come on, we should go take a look at what's in our storage chest. Besides, Siegward is stuck, naked, at the bottom of a well. We need to find him armor replacements."

They knelt before the fire, both grabbing the hilt of the sword. The surroundings distorted, fading to black, before reforming at the familiar basin of the shrine. She stood up, feeling a cold draft blow past. Their chest would be in Andre's room, down below.

"Mm, you're an Unkindled, aren't you?"

Both of their heads snapped to the right. Before them was a woman, dressed in shining armor of silver with thin wisps of white veils adorning her body, her lower half covered by an open skirt of blue cloth. She was sitting on the steps, near the entrance to the lower depths, her leg bent, keenly looking over Randull's form. Her face was quite lovely.

Scarlet crossed her arms, a smirk forming. She was going to sit this one out and let him dig his own grave.

"I am Sirris, of the Sunless Realms, former servant of the Divinity."

Randull bowed, flexing the muscles of his bare form. He was well built, bolstering a defined physique from a life of combat. His dark brown hair swung in his eyes, and he ran a hand through it, as he straightened his stance. "My lovely lady, what a pleasure it is to meet you." He stood up, doing a once over of her figure.

"Duties we each bear, but one's duty is a solitary affair. I doubt we've much to gain from fraternization."

He grinned, walking towards her. "I do not, my lady." He winked at her, and she blushed, turning her head slightly, taking a few moments to regain her composure, before looking back at him.

"Blessing of the moon upon your journey." She stood up, walking away from him, heading towards the main entrance of the shrine. His eyes followed her figure until she disappeared.

"Ashen one…"

His head snapped to the left to see the Firekeeper, her arm stretched out. Her mouth was contorted into an expression of confusion. Scarlet put a hand over her own mouth, trying to stifle a snort. She shook her head, walking past him, not wanting to bear witness to what was about to happen. Her eyes focused on the blacksmith in the distance, and she quickly jogged to him.

Items were scattered around the chest, and she kicked a few over in order to open to lid. Randull wasn't the most organized person, and he was also a bit of a _hoarder_. She knelt in front, sifting through the contents. After a few minutes, she rocked back on her heels with a frown. Most everything was heavy, bulky armor.

"A frown does not suit you, my lady."

A smile formed and she glanced up behind her right shoulder. Leonhard stood, propped against the far wall, watching her.

"You are too kind, my roguish friend." She reached into her satchel looking for anything she might have that would allow her to buy, or trade, for better equipment.

Raised voices echoed from the middle portion of the shrine. She snickered to herself.

Leonhard pushed off, walking towards Andre. He leaned into the old man, speaking in a hushed voice. She saw him drop a small, velvet bag into the blacksmith's large hands. The rogue turned towards her, bowing.

"Till we meet again, little kitten."

He turned, disappearing into the shadows. Her mouth still holding a grin. A large figure came into her vision.

"Well girl, let's get to it!"

[-]

Her new outfit was much, _much_ more comfortable. It was mostly a black, thick cloth, with some thin leather interwoven in critical areas. Bits and pieces of a delicate, silver metal covered her chest and shoulders, as well as her thighs. Boots stopped just below the knees, allowing her the flexibility she craved in bending while trying to dodge in the shadows with her crossbow. A small, skirt-like wrap went around her upper thighs, providing additional protection, while keeping her movements unrestrained.

Her head was covered in a black, thick cloth, that covered everything from her neck up, leaving only a slit available for her eyes to peer out of. A heavily engraved metallic, horizontal headband locked into place around her forehead. She enjoyed it, as it fixed her biggest complaint: it kept her hair out of her face.

The only thing she disliked was her bare forearms. It would take some getting used to. She had taken to covering the bare skin with cloth strips, for nothing else except to keep her from cutting and scraping them up.

She glanced to her companion. He was wearing something akin to his first knight-set, except it appeared to be better built, with more finite etchings. Ripped pieces of a faded, red cloth were intermixed between the silver sheets of metal, and fluttered slightly when he moved. She could tell it fit him well, since his movements were not as constrained.

She had to, physically, bend his arm backwards and force him towards Andre.

Scarlet had decided to speak with the Firekeeper after the whole debacle with Randull. The girl was naturally upset, and Scarlet spent the majority of the conversation comforting the poor thing. Mostly, she felt bad. Her brief attraction to her counterpart in the beginning had stung, so she could not imagine how betrayed the porcelain angel before her felt.

However, her main reason was that she needed to meditate and bolster her skills. If the Firekeeper was an emotional mess…

"He just comes across as _friendly_. Man or woman, it does not matter. He only speaks of you, though, whenever we are traveling together." It wasn't a complete lie.

A sweet smile crossed her tiny, pink lips, and Scarlet padded her hands, reassuringly. She glanced over the girl's head, narrowing in on her counterpart, who was speaking with the hand maiden. Daggers shot out of her eyes. She would kill him, later.

"Oh, my lady, I have forgotten my duties as such. Please, kneel before me, and I shall channel your experience."

Scarlet knelt, holding onto the delicate hand of the Firekeeper. She closed her eyes, feeling the refreshing rush surge over her body. Her blood pumped through her veins a little easier, and her muscles and bones embraced what they could.

Standing up, she thanked the sweet girl, and headed off to the left, taking the stairs up. She would thank Leonhard for the new armor. Andre did not tell her, but she was smart enough to figure things out.

Her steps skidded a bit, as she came to his usual spot next to the top throne pedestal. The candles at the floor flickered. _He was gone_.

Panic flared, and she ran around the pedestal to the other side, finding only shadows. She hopped back, doing a once over of the area. A small piece of parchment was lying on the ground, a black stone on top. She crouched, grabbing it and the stone. She unfolded the note, glancing over the words written in almost perfect penmanship.

 _"_ _My Lady,_

 _Please do not feel as though you owe me recompense._ _It was a gift, and I shall take slight if it is not accepted as such._

 _However, I beseech thee: come find me when your curiosity peaks once more, little kitten._ _It will be quite worth your while…"_

She rolled the black stone around in her palm, a grin forming on her lips.

"You are not, seriously, thinking of following him?"

She closed her eyes, sighing in irritation. She put the stone in her satchel. "Possibly."

"Scarlet, please, listen to me. He's psychotic. He claims no camaraderie. His primary objective is to kill other Unkindled for a rotting deity."

She expanded her arms upwards into a grand gesture. "And exactly what here _doesn't_ do those very things?"

"Yes, but…" He wasn't going to admit it, but she did have a point. "Look, I just don't like that guy."

Her eyes narrowed on him.

"He dresses _way too_ nice."

She laughed.

[-]

A red sword swung at her, and she sprinted around the corridor, dodging the thrusting attack of an insane, spiked invader.

"Randull! Get him the fuck off me!"

He was leaning over, sucking in air, trying to keep his heart from exploding. They had been invaded, although neither of them were in ember form. Something else was at play…

"Language!"

The invader swiped at head, and she barely ducked in time. A few pieces of stone fell on her from the wall the sword impacted, and she tripped, trying to sprint away. The man rammed one of his spiked pauldrons into her back, impaling her against the stone. She saw the black tip of metal protrude through her left, upper torso. Strong arms forced her flat, as he pulled his shoulder back. The glint of a blade flashed in the corner of her eyes, and she felt the painful sting of her throat being slit.

Her vision glossed over and blackness claimed her as she gasped, her lungs filling with blood.

She awoke back at the bonfire; the familiar crackling and warmth filling her senses. She sighed, trying to push her weary bones off the floor. Randull would need help. The sooner she got back, the sooner they could get rid of the invader. She looked up and froze.

"What…the…"

Some large, _woman_ , was in front of her, on an elevated bed. Long black and white hair flowed down the bed, onto the floor and down the steps. In her lap was a giant, wiggling blob of skin and tissue, with a deformed head at the end. She looked around her: cradles.

Her eyes panicked, and she began to take some steps backwards. This was wrong; something went wrong. Her fight or flight instinct kicked in, and she felt the need to start sprinting. She turned, running straight into someone. Arms wrapped around, locking her in. She looked up.

Familiar blue eyes gazed down on her face.

"Still skittish, little mouse? I am surprised your curiosity has not overcome your fear, by now."

She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. As strange as it seemed, it was comforting.

"The Mother of Rebirth, my lady. You stand before Rosaria. Many would envy you."

She slowly turned back, looking at the hunched over woman on the bed. A sadness prevailed. It felt perverted.

"Rebirth?"

"She rewards those who bring her pale tongues. Tongues of those who would pledge no allegiance. The reward is rebirth. You can be remade."

Her eyes widened in a silent fear, and she pulled on some of his overcoat. "Remade into what?"

"Whatever you desire. Your thoughts will remain, but your body will be born anew."

He continued to hold her, and she found her arms snaking around his torso, as her head laid on his chest. Her mind was overloaded; she was terrified, but she was unsure as to why, considering the nightmares they continuously discovered along their journey. However, everything about this place was _wrong_. Sickening gurgles filled the eerie silence of the chamber, resonating from a few of the bloated, human-esque creatures on the floor near the large woman. Above her, hellish cradles were hung from the ceiling.

"You have been reborn?" She hesitated to ask the question, as her eyes focused on the squirming form of a human-slug to their left.

His arms squeezed her a little. A few moments of silence passed before he responded. "No."

She pulled back, looking up at him. "Why? Your scars bother you."

A gloved hand reached up, running a finger along the edge of her face. "Does it bother you?"

She smiled sweetly. "No." She looked back at the human-slug. "Do you risk turning into _that_ , during rebirth?"

He pushed back, gently, creating some small distance as her hands detached their death grip on his overcoat. "For those who are greedy and careless with The Lady's rewards, yes."

She felt his other hand reach into her satchel. He pulled something out, and stepped away from her. He had a large, black orb in his hand. The little piece he had given her slipped back into the void of the globe, and the crack resealed itself. He put the orb back into his pocket.

She grabbed at his hand. "Can we go back now?"

"Back where, my lady? To reach your dimwitted counterpart, you would need to return to the shrine."

"No, _here_. The invader…"

His blue eyes focused on her, and his voice changed. "You did not come here by your own choosing?"

She slowly shook her head, taking a step backwards. He seemed… _angered_.

"Who was it? Who killed you?" He took a quick stride to her, grabbing her shoulders. "Who?"

Her eyes widened. "I don't know! He had…spikes, all over him…"

Her pulled her close, dragging her to the bonfire. He took her hand and wrapped it around the hilt.

"I will come find you."

She nodded; her face displaying complete and utter confusion. The silver mask faded.

[-]

Randull was near beaten. Scarlet still had not returned, and he worried that she may have met her demise, yet again. He was still getting used to the heavier armor, and he found that he lacked the conditioning needed to combat those of a more agile nature.

The thorny invader lunged towards him. He raised his shield, blocking the impact. He grunted as his strength failed him, and he found himself stumbling backwards, his form broken. The assailant stepped forward, readying to thrust his sword into his chest.

A dagger impaled the invader's shoulder, causing him to recoil. He pushed away from the defeated knight, letting Randull crash into the shallow water of the flooded cathedral floor. He locked eyes with the reddened figure descending the small steps.

"I would expect the Longfinger to have more sense than this." Leonhard unsheathed his curved blade, as he casually walked past Randull's wheezing form.

Kirk merely growled in response. In his insane lust for murder, he had cut his own tongue out, as a form of penance, offering it to his mute goddess. He cared not for the Ringfinger, and would much prefer to cut his tongue out, if he had a choice.

He grinned maniacally behind his spiked helmet. It appears he would finally be granted the opportunity to do just that.

Kirk dashed forward, lunging towards the rogue. Leonhard quickly dodged, coming up from behind to swipe at the Longfinger's back. It grazed his armor, and the high-pitched ding of metal colliding echoed in the great expanse.

The two danced through the shallow waters, trying to catch the other off guard, quickly readying a counterattack for each swipe and swing. Randull looked up, still trying to catch his breath from the constant battle he had been engaged in for the past hour. His eyes narrowed.

 _It's the goddamn rogue…_

He groaned. He wasn't sure who he wanted to win. Maybe the giant in the corner would crush them both? He watched as they disappeared up the steps on the other side of the central corridor. Hands tugged at his shoulders and he looked up.

"Scar-"

"Shh…" She pulled him up, keeping her eyes on the two reddened figures across the room. They were fully engaged, unaware of their surroundings. She dragged Randull with her, dodging in and out of various rooms, hallways, and elevators, eventually bring him back to the central bonfire of the Cathedral.

His arm was strung over her shoulders. He heard her heavy breathing, as found himself having to let her bear his entire weight at times. The fight had worn him out, and he was positive he had some form of internal bleeding, which was making it harder breath.

The dim, flickering light of the bonfire reflected off a wooden, ornate door, and he sighed in relief. He could already feel its healing effects. She hefted him up the steps, and unceremoniously threw him down in front of the bonfire. She put her hands on her hips, and walked in a circle, breathing hard.

"You…are…heavy…"

"You're not exactly _light_ , either."

She breathed in a few more times. "Shut…your mouth…"

He chuckled, feeling immensely better, as the bonfire healed his wounds, filling him with strength and resolve, once again. "What was that all about, by the way?"

She crouched in front of the fire, falling on her knees, as she stuck her hands out to warm them. "I think I distract him. It can be detrimental during fights."

Randull's eyes snapped to the doorway behind her. He glanced to Scarlet, who was oblivious.

"I had a feeling you would need help getting back, though." She smiled warmly, gazing into the fire.

Randull watched as the rogue silently walked up behind her, reaching for something in his pockets. A green, flickering crystal appeared, and he leaned forward next to her. Her head twisted to the side, and she let out a gasp in surprise.

"My lady…please be more cautious…lest your essence falls into the wrong hands."

She looked at him, cautiously sticking her hand out to cradle the remnants of her soul. He went to stand straight, and she grabbed his arm, using it to help pull herself up. His blue eyes looked at her, intrigued, as she positioned herself facing him.

She gently put his hand on top of her soul, and pushed down, causing it to shatter between their hands. A green haze covered them both.

"A reward. It may not be as good as rebirth, but at least I am not asking for tongues."

Randull groaned. "I really don't want to watch this."

She snapped her head towards him. "Really? And what do you think I have to watch _every time_ we go back to the shrine?"

"You act like you don't enjoy it." Randull stood, stretching in his armor. He took his sword out, and did a few swipes, testing that the motility in his arm had fully recovered. He pointed towards Leonhard.

"Let's have at it, _Ringfinger_."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the hilt of the bonfire sword.

[-]

With Randull preoccupied, it allowed her time to work on her sorcery training with Orbeck.

"Concentrate. If you cannot focus your thoughts, you may as well as resort to banging on things with sticks like your counterpart."

She snorted. It appeared everyone was of the opinion that Randull was an idiot.

She had purchased a beginner's staff, starting out with a spell titled "Farron Dart". It shot bright, blue lights called "soul darts". Apparently, she had the natural inclination towards magic, which is the only reason Orbeck agreed to tutor her. She focused, letting a small dart release, aiming at some stone rubble to the side. It hit the target.

"Excellent! See what you can do once you focus your mind?"

She nodded, relaxing her casting stance. Using her magic reserves was a tiring affair. She would only be able to cast a handful of times before needed to take a break in front of the bonfire.

Orbeck began explaining the fundamentals of where the spell had originated, referencing to a famous school, in an era long forgotten. A figure appeared from above. It was Randull, and he looked _pissed_.

"The ideal sorcerer bears the twin faces of the dragon..." Orbeck looked over at Scarlet, seeing that her focus was completely on something else. "Oh, you could at least act as if you are paying attention!"

Randull stepped up, shoving the sorcerer to the side, leaning into Scarlet's face.

" ** _Your_** fucking rogue! GO…GET…MY…SOULS…BACK."

She swallowed hard. It was times like this that she wished she still had her mask. Her hat was looped around her chest strap, and she struggled to hold her facial expression. She nodded, hurrying past him, putting her fist in her mouth and biting as hard as she could, trying to keep herself under control.

 _She had to get outside._

She ran up the stairs, passing the solemn shield-man, who had decided to return to cast his doom and gloom on the shrine, once again. An outdoor breeze hit her face, and she jumped to the side, keeling over, as laughter erupted from her mouth.

[-]

"I feel like I just got molested." She shoved a dead deacon off her. Randull had run into the bottom chamber of the Cathedral, positive that Aldrich's body lied within. What they had found instead were about fifty, deranged and disturbed deacons, staring back at them.

Eventually, Randull's blade plunged through the deacon responsible for the power they all tapped into. Once it died, the rest collapsed to the ground, instantly dead.

He was rummaging through the deacon's robes, sifting through the pockets. Scarlet stood behind him, her crossbow slung over her shoulder. Pilfering the dead was not an activity she routinely partook in, if she could avoid it.

He pulled out an item, holding it up. His lifted his visor, leaning in to get a better look. He waived her over, and she leaned in, scrunching her eyebrows.

"A doll?"

He shook his head, standing up. "There…has to be more to this. Want to hang onto it?"

She shrugged, holding her hand out as he placed the raggedy thing in her palm. She was used to holding all the "unique" items that he could care less about, until they proved useful.

"Where to next?"

He sheathed his sword, and turned back towards her. "We need to get to the other side of the bridge up top."

Her lip curled. _Patches._ She wanted to kill that prick. An idea popped in her head.

"What about above…in the rafters? Maybe we could get the drop in on him?"

His visor was still up, and he turned to her, a smirk on his face. His grey eyes sparkled with excitement. "I like how you think. Let's go!"

She laughed as she ran after him.

[-]

She was pouting, standing off in the corner of Rosaria's Bedchamber. Randull was walking around, fascinated, looking at all the macabre cradles. She wanted to leave this place, as soon as possible, but that wasn't what was bothering her.

"Let it go, Scarlet. I allowed you to invite the stuck-up sorcerer, you could at least let me invite one of my own choosing."

"Hmph." She crossed her arms, looking away from him. He grinned; Patches was the first person they had come across who she _absolutely_ despised.

He walked up to Rosaria. She remained in her sitting position, her legs tucked underneath her. Her arms were wrapped around a rebirthed grub, which wiggled at random intervals. He grimaced, thinking if she actually _birthed_ these things, or if that was just a figure of speech.

 _He didn't want to know._

"You think I should join?"

She snapped out of her tantrum, and strolled up towards him, grabbing his arm. "Definitely not. You don't want anything to do with this, trust me. This place is all sorts of wrong."

He chuckled, patting her hand. "I was just seeing if you were paying attention. You know how I feel about invading."

She smiled, relieved. It was bad enough with Leonhard, she didn't need to deal with two of them.

"You ready to leave?" She anxiously tugged at his arm.

He turned, grabbing her hand as they went back to the bonfire. The place unnerved him, even more than it did her.


	8. Chapter 8

I _finally_ figured out how to get the horizontal lines to show! WOO!

* * *

She was leaning against the outcrop up top, listening in on what the "Londor representative" was trying to brainwash her counterpart with. If there was a loose boulder, she would have pushed it on top of this woman, a _long_ time ago.

"Knowest thou of a maid named Anri? She is hollow, and will join thee in wedlock."

The voice was faint, and Scarlet was unable make out some of the words. She thought back to earlier, when she refused to pry into any of his business. When that had changed, she was unsure. However, her concern for the welfare of her friend was always a priority. Her stomach churned in worry whenever he engaged with those of Londor.

"For what Lord taketh no spouse?"

 _Interesting_.

A hand wrapped itself around her mouth and she felt an arm pull her flush against a chest. Cold metal brushed against the side of her face as he whispered in her ear. "You are becoming quite bold, kitten."

Her heartbeat sped up as the familiar scent of spice invaded her senses. His hand slowly ran along the length of her side. Her armor diminished much of the sensation, but it was still sensual, none the less.

"Kill Orbeck?" Randull's booming voice echoed a bit, as he asked his question in complete shock.

Her eyes focused, and she grabbed Leonhard's hand from her mouth, bringing it down over her chest, interlocking their fingers. She leaned in, straining her ears on the conversation just below her feet.

"Decisiveness is the mark of a true monarch..."

She turned to Leonhard, her eyes full of concern. He squeezed her hand, dragging her behind him as they slipped out of the crevice and back up the steps. He led her out the side entrance, where the locked gate to the upper tower still mocked her. The hand maiden possessed the key, but she demanded a large price for it.

He brought her to the gate, reaching into his pocket and pulling out strange, metal contraption. He knelt in front of the lock, sticking the item in keyhole. Two metal arms, suddenly, sprung outwards. He slid in a thin metal pick, turning it slowly. The lock disengaged and he pulled on one of the bars, opening the gate. He pushed up on his tool, causing the arms to pop back into place so he could remove it. Turning to her, he bowed, sticking his arm outwards, motioning her to head inside the derelict tower. He let the door fall shut behind them and the lock engaged, once again.

The tower was in disarray. He took her hand, leading her up the stairs. The stone ledge at top, which connected the tower to the main body of the shrine, was treacherous. He gripped her tighter, assuring she would not fall. At the end of the pathway was a chamber with an elevator's platform in front of them. On the sides of the room was pitch blackness, leading into the depths below. He ushered her forward, stepping on the raised tile, causing the platform to rise.

The elevator brought them to the upper most portion of the shrine. She walked off the platform and headed towards the winding stairs on the right, which lead her to the highest point of the shrine. Her gaze casted out over the crumbling landscape below. The world…it appeared broken, even more so than when she first laid eyes upon it. On the stone floor, she saw decayed remains of a figure wearing the same garb as the Firekeeper.

"The first Firekeeper. The fates of those tied to the flame are rarely benevolent. They are prisoners, nothing more."

She shook her head, walking away from the corpse. "Yuria is dangerous. While I neither agree, nor disagree, with bringing forth an age of Darkness, in lieu of Fire, I still distrust this woman. I feel her motivations to kill Orbeck are unfounded." She grabbed at her arms, nervously. "I…hope Randull sees through that…"

"You would willingly stand aside while your companion ushers in Darkness?"

Her eyes locked on his, as she spread her hand out over the corpse at her feet. "The things I have seen, the lingering remnants of an age of Fire, have not dissuaded me to act elsewise."

He lifted his hands to his face and slipped his fingers under his mask. Slowly, he lifted it; the triangular hat being removed in the process, as well. Straight, black hair fell out, stopping just above his shoulders. He held his headwear in his right hand, and crossed his arms, leaning against a small pillar near the edge.

Her eyebrow raised, questioning.

"Occasionally, I enjoy the feel of the wind on my face." He shrugged.

She smiled warmly, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Her thoughts returned to what she had overheard.

"It'll be interesting, though. She mentioned something about him taking Anri as a spouse."

"That doesn't bother you, my lady?" He gave her a mischievous grin.

She rolled her eyes. "Him? _Really?_ " She scratched at the back of her head. A sharp wind whipped over the edge of the tower, blowing some of her red hair in her face, causing her to spit some out.

"Actually, I am worried about the Firekeeper. If he keeps pissing her off, I won't be able to use her as a mediator anymore."

Laughter erupted from him. She watched, observing his facial expressions. It was something she had only seen once, while he laid on her lap, dying. Her expression changed to that of a somber nature.

"I do not believe you serve Rosaria. I have not figure out exactly _what_ your purpose is, but it is not what you try to convince others of."

He pushed off the pillar, and walked to her, stopping just shy of a few inches while looking down; his eyes glancing over her face. She had, obviously, seen his before, but she noticed that the scarring was more extensive then upon first glance. Damaged skin continued downwards, disappearing behind the collar of his overcoat. She had an inclination that the rest of his body was scarred in a similar fashion. Why he had never chosen rebirth…it gave credence to her theory that he followed a different path.

"Your observations are keen. Perhaps that is why I find myself unable to cut your tongue out."

Her eyebrows hit her hairline, and she took a giant step away from him. A menacing smile formed on his lips. He turned from her, walking near the edge of the platform. He gazed out to the mountains in the far distance.

"My homeland exists far beyond those mountains in the distance. Fire has dwindled there, as well. We all share the same fate, my curious kitten. I was sent here to assure that my lineage's oaths were not for naught. If it requires that the same, sadistic spark be produced to relight this dooming imprisonment, then so be it."

"Blind pride can bring great nations to ruin." She crossed her arms, leaning to the side, as she observed his back stiffen. She had struck a nerve.

He turned, facing her. An intense, stern expression washed over his face. "You mistake honor with pride."

"And the difference? It is a fine line you walk. It would be beyond painful to watch as you willingly thrust yourself into the machinations of something well beyond ourselves…well beyond _this_ shred in time." She walked towards the opposite end of the platform. The great city of Lothric stood before her, balancing on the edge of the tattered world.

The clicking of the elevator shaft below them resonated. She felt the vibrations of the gears and chains. She turned to him, a sly grin on her lips. "It appears we have been found, my illustrious rogue."

Randull must have purchased the key. He always seemed to know where she was…

She glanced to Leonhard. His mask had returned to his face and his eyes were focused behind her.

"Time to go." She felt Randull's hand on her back, leading her away, down to the elevator below. She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of blue eyes.

* * *

She took one step into the swampy water, hearing a sizzling noise and recoiling immediately.

 _It was poisoned._

"Great…"

The water was making strange ripples, and sloshed about. She crouched down, squinting her eyes to try and see below the murky surface. It appeared thick, and glistened in the low, eerie light that surrounded the region. Suddenly, antennae sprung out and a large slug emerged. Its back was hunched with a hissing sound was emanating from it. She felt Randull yank her to the side, as she saw the ground become coated in a poisonous, rancid fluid. Randull stepped passed her, slicing the invertebrate in half in one sweeping motion.

"My dear…please be more cautious."

Her eyebrows raised, although her covered head and face hid her expressions. "Back to calling me terms of endearment?"

"I don't recall stopping."

Her eyes narrowed. "You want something…out with it."

His back was to her, and she heard the sound of air sucking through his teeth. His hand reached up to grab the back of his helmet, a nervous behavior.

"I think…you should stay behind, at least for this region."

Silence.

"It's a very treacherous land. You're not used to such a toxic environment.

Silence.

"Scarlet?"

He turned around, seeing an empty spot where she had been standing. He looked up, catching the faint flicker of the bonfire. She had left.

He swallowed nervously, then shrugged his shoulders; she'd get over it.

* * *

She had traveled back to the Undead Settlement, exploring some of the area they had missed during the previous trips. The cliff side bonfire was located underneath a crumbling expanse of old wooden houses, as well as a gate. She had noticed a ladder leading upwards and had decided to sate her curiosity.

Two deranged undead were above the gate, firing bolts with a small flame, into barrels of gunpowder below. She easily took out both with her crossbow, moving over the corpses. She crept around the building edge, slowly peering around the corner.

She looked up; an older man, with a wrapped face, was in a hanging cage. His head turned towards her, shaking the case a little over the expanse of air underneath him.

"Ah-ha, Unkindled are we?"

She straightened her posture, walking towards him. Her head nodded, as she swung her crossbow over her shoulder. She looked at the cage, analyzing the best way to free him.

"Welcome to my abode. I am Cornyx, an old pyromancer. A crow in his cage as you see, now."

She stepped up, shaking the bars a bit to judge if there were any loose hinges. It appeared to have been heavily worn, and she saw the telltale sign of rust flakes jingle loose.

"But here we are, an encounter for the ages!"

In her pocket was a tool similar to what she saw Leonhard use. She felt along the bars, locating one of the rusted hinges. It took minimal effort before the hinge fell off. She knelt, feeling for the bottom one.

"I hear the Unkindled make for fine vessels."

The hinge popped off, causing her to brace her hands over her head to keep the cage door from crushing her. Cornyx reached out, grabbing the bars, and lifting the door off to the side. He stepped out onto the rickety, wooden platform next to her. His body was adorned in ragged, singed cloth.

"Care to learn pyromancies from this old man?"

"What are pyromancies? Is it the same as sorcery?"

The older man chuckled warmly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "No, my child, it is far older, and much more primitive. A natural aptitude for sorcery should be plenty for you to master that from Izalith herself."

"What does is it… _do_?"

"Ah, a demonstration is in order, I presume. Watch." He turned from her, facing towards a broken, wooden crate. He held his outstretched arm in front of him, the palm facing up towards the crate. Suddenly, fire began to form, and she watched as it took on the shape of a wispy, burning ball. He pushed his hand forward slightly, and the ball dislodged, flying out straight to the crate. It impacted, causing flaming splinters to scatter in all directions.

She clasped her hands together, amazed.

"I shall meet you back the Firelink Shrine, my child." He bowed his head, disappearing around the edge of the building. Scarlet turned back to the smoldering remnants of the crate. She stretched her hand out, focusing on her palm. How does one simply will fire, let alone control it?

"Yes…we shall."

* * *

"I request a word with you, dearest companion to our Lord."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. It was a behavior that felt natural when she was dealing with those of an _undesirable_ nature. She sighed, calming her nerves, as she turned, walking towards the tall, refined figure of Yuria.

Yuria motioned her to follow, as they headed towards the dark, side corridor of the underneath passages in the shrine. No doubt, whatever it was she wanted to say was not meant for others. When they reached the end, the woman from Londor quickly pivoted her body to face Scarlet, causing her long black dress to flutter.

"Thou ears have heard that which was not meant for thee. I implore, what does thou intend, with such vital information?"

Scarlet sighed, facing away from the masked woman. Her blackish metal helm presented the void blankness of expression. It was as unnerving as the general vibe those from Londor gave off, naturally.

"Nothing. It is Randull's decision. I owe him my life, and therefore, my unwavering allegiance. Should he decide to purge this cesspool of corrupted, lingering sin into Darkness, then I will gladly watch from the shadows."

Her eyes snapped back to the black figure in front of her. "That does not mean I accept the outright _murder_ of Orbeck. He has done nothing to warrant your mistrust."

"He proclaimeth himself Lord of Hollows. If left alone, he may one day imperil our true Lord's rule."

"How can you know for sure? I do not trust you, Yuria, just as much as I do not trust those guiding us along the treacherous journey of igniting the dying Flame."

"Thou are wise, indeed." Yuria turned, walking slowly as she motioned her crossed arms, signifying Orbeck's location through the stone walls. "I cannot provide thee with evidence. However, I sense such atrocities within the false one's soul. These are only bolstered by his claims."

She turned to Scarlet. "My intentions are to protect our Lord, else we are unraveled. Such notions should strike familiarity, Daughter of Zena."

Scarlet went rigid, as the crippling pain flared in her mind. She found herself crashing to her knees, grasping at her head. Yuria slowly turned, walking away from the twitching form on the ground. Her ominous chuckles echoed in the ash covered corridors.

Scarlet screamed.

* * *

Randull was having second thoughts.

The Ghru he stumbled upon was busily clawing at his face. He felt his left eye tear out of the socket. Something grabbed his shoulders from behind, and he glanced down with his right eye, observing the pointed end of a wooden staff protruding through his chest.

The goat-legged demons were once guardians to Farron Keep, ever watchful of the abyss, assuring it remained contained. Something had changed them, in a time long forgotten. What was left were hideous, deformed beings; their faces full of squirming, gray tubes, that wiggled in delight as they narrowed in on new prey.

He had only managed to light one of the ritual fires. At this rate, he would never push forward. He regretted sending Scarlet back to the Shrine. At least, he hoped that's where she returned. His thoughts lingered in the dark void, until he felt his body reform at the bonfire at the bottom of the long, shaft which connected the swamp with the marshes above.

He groaned, as he sat in his typical position in front of the fire; his elbow draped over his bent knee. He would need to go get Scarlet. She was, no doubt, still infuriated. It had been quite some time, and she had yet to return out of the bonfire, seeking him.

He reached over, grabbing the hilt, envisioning the shrine in his mind. The images around him faded, as he felt the familiar sensation of being pulled to another location. The gray, ash interior came into view, slowly reaching more clarity. He picked movement up from the right.

Scarlet walked past him, her hand on her head, wincing. She took no notice of him in front of the bonfire. He watched as she crashed into one of the stone walls, stumbling backwards. She reached out with her left arm, feeling along the wall, attempting to stabilize herself. Her legs gave out and she tumbled to the floor.

He jumped up, sprinting to her. He grabbed her shoulders, flipping her right side up, so he could get a look at her face. Her pupils were dilated; her skin was deathly pale, dotted with sweat. He felt her hand latch onto his arm and squeeze.

"Randull…" Her voice was weak. "I feel awful."

He cradled her a bit, lifting her so she sat upright. "What happened?"

"Memories…"

"I am beginning to think that you were not meant to remember."

She squeezed his arm again. "As do I."

He heard the clash of two swords hit in the depths below. He propped Scarlet up again the wall. "Stay here." She nodded, her hand still pressed against her head.

He took off, passing the Firekeeper and Hand Maiden.

"Oof!"

Greirat ran straight into him, clamoring over his torso.

"They're loons! I'm getting out of here!" He took off sprinting in the opposite direction. Randull groaned, pulling himself back up, as he placed a hand on his lower back. _That smarted_.

Around the edge of the stone wall, he saw Yuria engaged with the Ringfinger. They were slowly stepping in a continuous circle, each sizing the other up.

"Don't claim ignorance, you infectious traitor. Your lies have poisoned enough."

"I granted that which she sought, _puppet_. Her curse is inconsequential. I beseech thee; stop this madness. An enemy I do not seek..."

Leonhard dashed forward, his curved blade raised in preparation of placing a direct slice across Yuria's chest. It hit something else instead. Randull stood, his Irithyll blade placed in between the two adversaries. A soft twinkling of frost and ice shimmered in the dim light.

"Enough, Ringfinger."

His eyes narrowed on the Hollow in disguise. "You would willingly let her manipulate those around you? You are more of a fool than I thought."

Randull sighed, leaning in. " _Enough_ …sheath your weapon." He looked into Leonhard's eyes; they were enraged, focused on murder. "Please, Leonhard…"

Blue eyes glanced around slightly, as the intensity simmered. Slowly, he felt pressure being removed from his outstretched sword, until he saw the Ringfinger sheath his wicked blade. The rogue pointed towards Yuria.

"You, vile witch, stay away _from her_."

Yuria remained positioned in her typical, proper stance. Her head made no movement as Leonhard stormed up the steps and into the upper levels. Randull watched him, slowly piecing together what had transpired while he was gone. He turned to the dark figure next to him.

"What do you know of my companion?"

"My Lord, I knoweth no more than thee. Only thy companion's origins. It is woven into her being."

His eyes looked upon the Londor woman with an incredulous expression. "Yes… _I'm sure_." He glanced back up, hearing a few soft voices from the main floor of the shrine. "Yuria, I have a request."

"Of course, my Lord."

"Do not tell Scarlet anything of her past, unless I am present. Understand?"

Yuria bowed her head. "Thy wish is my command, my Lord."

His vision picked up something that quivered, only slightly, in the shadows of the recesses above.

"Greirat! Get your ass down here! I need to buy some items…"


	9. Chapter 9

"Zena? What the hell is Zena?"

They were back in the swampy outstretch of what used to be the Farron Woods. Scarlet had her arms wrapped around Randull's shoulders from the back, as he hoisted up her legs from around his sides. Her attire had absolutely no protection against the poisonous, murky water he was currently trudging through. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face; he contemplated taking the ring off.

Her crossbow kept whacking him in the chest, as she'd get distracted, looking off to the side.

"Hold that thing, will you? I'm already struggling enough as it is."

She snorted. "Leonhard has no problem picking me up." She bit her lip, trying to withhold a laugh.

"I should drop you, just for that comment."

"You wouldn't _dare_ …"

She felt the sudden rush of gravity, and let out a yelp. Her bottom impacted a hard surface, and she rolled over, groaning. Randull walked onto the small island, putting his hands on his knees, sucking air in and out. "Why are you so heavy? The Firekeeper is a fraction of your weight."

Her eyes narrowed. "The Firekeeper stands around all day, wasting away while she stares at the bonfire, waiting for you to return. I, on the other hand, _move_."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He stood up, rotating his arms around, stretching the aching muscles out. He gazed ahead in the distance: more swamp. He groaned.

"I have more muscle. Besides, you shouldn't speak. The last time I had to carry you, I thought my heart was going to explode." She let loose a loud laugh.

He pointed at her, putting a hand on his hip. "That…is not funny, woman."

She glanced around, taking in the environment they had found themselves in. The rotting growth on the trees blocked out the majority of light from above the canopy. Fungi grew over most of the bark on the trunks, spreading out over the water, creating thick mats. The remnants of a long-forgotten mountain range still lingered, as large boulders and formations jetted out of swamp water.

"Did you remember anything else?"

Her eyes glanced over to Randull, still standing upright with his hand on his hip. His visor was raised, and she saw the intensity of his gray eyes. He was quite attractive, this was true, however, she knew what lied underneath the illusion.

"Water. I thought it rain, at first, but this time…it was much more than rain. It was pouring _in_ , from above."

"In what?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She stood up, dusting off her bottom with a couple of swats.

"Yuria had mentioned a curse. I did not press further. However, I am beginning to wonder if that is what keeps your memories at bay."

She shrugged. "Perhaps. Maybe it is for the best? Memories should never be this painful. If the mere _thought_ of them brings this much agony, I hate to think what would happen should they return in full." She smiled at him. "Besides, my time with you has been quite adventurous. I am content with my new life and new memories, in the making."

"Not to mention your rogue."

She scowled. "Will you get off that? Once again, he's not _my rogue._ "

He turned to her, his mouth contorted slightly, his eyebrows scrunched. "Hmm, that does explain why I saw him with Irina, recently."

She jumped over grabbing his arm. "What?!"

A mischievous grin spread across his lips. He looked down on her with twinkling eyes. Her cheeks reddened, and she let go over his arm.

"So, as I was saying, _your ro_ -"

A dead twig snapped in the distance, and they both looked to the right. A distant haze of red could be seen, diving behind the massive trunk of a tree. They had a visitor…

Randull groaned, in irritation. He unsheathed his sword, readying his shield on his left arm. His eyes squinted, and he picked up the familiar outline of the large, Xanthous Crown. _Yellowfinger Heysel again?_

"Turn back, Yellowfinger. You cannot have many lives left to throw away needlessly."

His answer came in the form of a blue bolt, aimed at his head. He ducked, letting it pass by, scorching the rock wall behind him. A quick, and deadly accurate, flame bolt flew past him, hitting its mark. Heysel dropped her pick-like staff, grabbing at her arm. The bolt had embedded itself in her.

Randull rushed forward into the poisonous water, heading straight towards her. His sword are was raised, as he sliced downwards on his target. She dodged, causing him to miss and stumble slightly. She kicked him from behind, and he fell face first into the swampy water.

He saw the staff disappear in front of him, and he raised his eyes up to the figure wielding it. She was readying to slice his head off with the wickedly curved blade at the end. Suddenly, fire erupted from behind her, and she screamed, falling into the water. Her disintegrating ashes intermixed, leaving a smoldering puddle of blackness in its wake. A small, yellow-shaded soul arose to the top. He picked it up, heading back towards his companion.

Her hand was still engulfed in flame. Closing her eyes, Scarlet focused on the flame, willing it to extinguish. Eventually, the smoky remains of her spell was all that was left. Her teachings with Cornyx had proven to be fruitful, and she had advanced far more in pyromancy than sorcery.

His eyebrow raised, as he held the soul out for her. "Pyromancy, eh?"

She clamped down on it, letting the yellow haze of Heysel's soul split itself between them. "Honestly, I like it far better than sorcery. Orbeck is a little… _dry_."

"Sharing souls with me? Your rogue may become jealous."

Her eyes narrowed. " _My rogue_ always kicks your ass."

He looked back at her, gasping. "My lady… _language_."

The weird fact that people's _souls_ were a form of currency still amazed her. However, she knew that Randull barely had any. He had recently spent quite a bit, trying to meditate and expand his skills. The process used quite a bit of energy, and it was where souls had their most use. She had seen him refuse trading with Greirat, passing up on buying items he would need for this journey. She felt along her pack, making sure the blooming purple moss was still there.

Something caught her eye, off to the right, by a crumbling side of a cliff. Was that a… _cave_?

* * *

"Oh, my… This is stupendous. It's from Oolacile, an ancient land of golden sorceries. Not even the Dragon School possesses such a long-lost scroll. What would the Xanthous scholars say, with their ridiculous headwear? They would simply slaver over this find."

 _Maybe Randull was right?_ _They should have left him in the ruins in the woods._

Scarlet's progression with pyromancy had, in turn, caused her enthusiasm towards sorcery to dwindle. This also carried over to those of a primarily sorcerous nature; such as Orbeck. He seemed ecstatic, at least. They had discovered this crumbled, barely legible scroll on a stretch of land where giant corpses of mushroom beings were scattered about.

To her, it appeared very "magical". She could not decipher the language, but some of it appeared to be written in the common, as sort of a notation on the side. After discovering that Randull was illiterate, she decided to hand it to Orbeck, just to see what he would say. As it seems, her gut instincts were accurate.

"Return later, and I shall have new sorceries available to you." He quickly stood up, going back to his stash of scrolls and texts shoved behind a crumbling pile of stone in the shrine. She turned, heading across the floor towards Cornyx, anxious to continue more training with pyromancies.

"Scarlet, up here!" She glanced up to see Randull, waiving her over towards Andre's room. She swerved left, jogging up the stairs and across the small bridge, over to where her companion stood. He was staring in their armor chest, pointing.

"Did you want this dress?"

Her eyebrow raised. "Are you…serious?"

He shrugged.

"What would I do with a dress? What, I mean…is there anything special about it?"

He looked back down in the chest, noting the fine, cream-colored lace, and muted yellow cloth. "It's pretty?"

She ran her hand over her face, looking up at the ceiling.

He kicked the chest lid shut. "We'll keep it for now. I simply have a feeling about it. Like…it is familiar, but I am unsure how."

She crossed her arms. "Someone else having trouble with their memories, as well?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Perhaps. There is much to my past I have been unable to piece together. There is also a certain mythology, which my kingdom held dear. Farron Keep seems to beckon an age long past…an age I feel I partook in, once."

Gray eyes glanced to hers. It was a look she had not seen him possess before; one of thought and reflection. Randull always carried a light-hearted approach to the chaos and horrors that surrounded them. However, she had noticed his mood become more and more solemn, as they slowly had made their way through the disease and poison infested woods that stretched before the Keep.

He straightened his posture, walking towards her. Her hat was looped on her chest strap, and some of her auburn hair had fallen across her eyes. He reached out, twisting stray strands and tucking them behind her ear. "There was a tower we passed, which stretched up through the canopy. I would like to explore it, if you have no objections?"

She smiled, reaching up to pat his hand with hers. He had left it on her cheek. "Of course."

* * *

"Randull…remember when you let me fall?"

He let out a loud, irritated sigh. "I didn't _let_ you fall. Your arms were sliced off by the stone floor."

"Yeah…I'm scared of heights now."

He stopped, looking below him, through his feet on the ladder. She was a few steps down; her elbows hooked around the ladder tightly, as though she was hanging on for dear life. He sighed again, and began to descend towards her.

"Scarlet, you _really_ need to start telling me things ahead of time." He swung himself around the ladder, climbing on the opposite side. He positioned himself to where he was facing her, dead on. He lifted his visor.

Her breathing was raspy, and her eyes remained clinched shut. "It didn't occur to me until I looked down."

"Scarlet…look at me."

She opened them, locking in on his. Her pupils were dilated; she was panicked.

"Did I ever tell you that you have the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen?" He flashed her a charming smile.

She stared, eventually blinking once. Her eyes began to shed some of their frightened appearance. "No…"

"They match your soul. A vibrant, luscious green. I have never seen it before."

She blinked again. "My eyes… _are green_?"

"Yes, my dear, very much so."

A blush formed on her cheeks, as she broke their eye contact, glancing to the side a bit. He silently congratulated himself; his attempt at distracting her had worked quite well.

"Here is what I want you to do: you are going to keep moving up, and never look down… _even once_. Should something happen, I will be right behind you. I will catch you."

Her green eyes widened, as her eyebrows scrunched together slightly. "How?"

He gave her a narrowed, sly look. "How many times have I carried you? You think me too weak to catch you? I'm not sure if I should presume you are joking, or be offended."

She snorted. "You are _preposterous_." She glanced up, refocused on her goal, and began to climb upwards. He grinned to himself, swinging his legs around to the right side of the ladder, resuming his climb.

He reached the top, a mere ten seconds before her. She was still on her hands and knees, shuffled off to the side, breathing heavily. They would need to find a bonfire; she was in no condition to descend that long of ladder, this he was sure of. He crawled over, putting his arm around her quivering shoulders.

"I'm…sorry…"

He squeezed her arm. "There is nothing to apologize for. Come, let me help you up." He went to stand, pulling her along with him. Her body weight sagged into his, and he kept his arm around her, hoisting her up, slightly. They made their way on the upper pathway that bordered an internal chamber. A doorway popped up around the corner, and he rushed her inside; she should recover better being away from the edge.

He froze.

Scarlet felt his body go rigid underneath his armor. She looked up, seeing his eyes focused straight ahead. Following his gaze, she saw what he did.

A giant wolf laid before them, curled in on itself. It appeared…dead?

He let her go, and she stumbled towards the wall, bracing her hands against the stone as she tried to maintain balance. She watched as he took languid steps towards the beast. He knelt before it, reaching his hand out to weave his fingers through the coarse hair on its head.

"How could fate be so unkind, my dear friend…" The words barely left his lips, as he saw the recycled remnants of the once great and proud wolf who stayed by his side. In another time…in another place…

The memory disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but an uncanny familiarity towards the incapacitated beast in front of him. It was not dead, yet it was not alive. It balanced the uncomfortable thin line between life and death. He felt pressure on his armored shoulders.

"A memory?"

He nodded his head slightly. Beneath his feet, he saw large, blades of grass, strewn about in front of the beast. He took his gloves off, picking one of the blades up, running the edge of his finger on the serrated end. It broke the false, delicate skin. While the ring could bring forth such believable illusions, the cut was unable to bleed as it should. The wound healed itself, instantaneously.

"Oww!"

He snapped his head to the right, looking at Scarlet, who had one of her fingers stuck in her mouth. She looked at him with irritated eyes. "Grass should _not_ be sharp enough to cut skin."

"These are offerings, made to the great wolf of Farron Keep."

"Is that what you remembered?"

He turned back to the beast in front of them. "No, it was something I was told by Hawkwood, once. The memory I possessed was fleeting, and has faded. Whatever this beast is…it was reminiscent of something long, long ago."

"Perhaps that's what we all are? Reborn, remade...forgotten."

"Time erases everything." His eyes slowly found their way to the right, focusing in on the vibrant green ones of his companion.

"Only if you move along a linear pathway. Time is distorted, _here_. It circles, it lapses…it is against the nature of things." Her hands made a large, circular movement, emphasizing her explanation.

His eyebrow raised, keenly interested. "The nature of things?"

"Why yes. All objects, all beings…they possess a certain _nature_ to them. A behavior, or property, in which it is bound to in the physical world." She put her hands behind her back, and rocked forward on her toes, rolling back to her heels.

"Hmm." He had never given much thought to the purpose of anything he encountered. He reached out again, patting the matted hair of the wolf that he felt a deep bond with, yet he could not quite remember _why_. Perhaps, it would come with time…

A hand appeared in front of him. "Come, my downtrodden friend. Such erudite discussions are not part of _your_ nature." She gave him an impish smile; her eyes crinkling at the corners. He couldn't help but to grin in return, grasping her hand as she used her body weight to pull him up.

An unlit bonfire was off to the side, and he walked to it, kneeling before the decayed remains of kindling. A spark jumped from the low burning embers, causing the bonfire to flare to life. Instantly, he felt the relief of the fire; his burdens, gradually, melting away. His eyes picked up on an elevator shaft in the corner of the large chamber.

 _We'll rest a little longer…_

* * *

She felt the weightlessness of being thrown across the bridge. Apparently, the elevator to the top was not as "clear of hostiles" as Randull had assured her it would be. They were on the portion of the bridge that had fallen, which had connected Lothric castle with the Undead Settlement. _Theoretically_ , nothing should have survived.

Unfortunately, something _had_ survived…and it was quite large.

Her body skidded across the dilapidated bridge. The cloth covering her knees ripped open, causing the skin to peel back from the friction of her sliding over the rough, uneven surface. Blood began to pour out. She grabbed her estus flask, downing a swig, and placing it back in her pack. Groaning, loudly, she swung her torso back towards the stone demon, releasing another bolt.

The demon had its arms raised, readying to smash Randull into a pulp underneath its massive stomach. Her bolt managed to hit dead center in one of its tiny, smoky eyes. It dropped its giant weapon, causing the ground to shake around it, and a large, stone hand reached for its head. Randull steadied himself, taking his sword in two hands, and lunged forward, slicing at its weaker underbelly.

It howled, shouting its death throes over the cursed woods below. The large body crashed to the ground, and Scarlet found herself losing balance, falling backwards onto her rear. Her crossbow misfired, by accident, and she heard the sharp yelp of her companion.

"What in the hell are you doing, woman!"

She let out a loud laugh, snorting to herself as she laid on her back, splayed out over the stone bridge.

"You shot me! And you're… _laughing?!_ "

"Children whine less than you." She shouted into the empty space above her. The sky was its usual reddened sunset color. The vague, stenciled lines of a grotesque, flying creature surrounded the castle. She hoped she would never have the misfortune of seeing such a thing up close.

She insisted that he take the soul from the demon. It was not a stone demon, as she had thought, but was, interestingly, called a _stray_ demon. What it had strayed from, she did not know…nor was she entirely positive that she _wanted_ to know.

"I do wonder, why are demons not more common in this world?"

They were making their way to the other side of the bridge. She would stop, occasionally firing a bolt to take out any of the undead, insane militia still lingering about. He raised his visor, his left eyebrow raised in question.

"What do you mean? Why would you think they are common?"

She shook her head. "You misinterpret my question. This land is chaotic, is it not? Were demons not born from the Chaos flame, long ago?"

"Yes, and the flame had, _obviously_ , died, lest we would not be on our current endeavor to reignite it."

She sighed; Randull was _not_ an academic, by any means. He saw things in black and white. They either were, or they were not. It was not a bad thing, to be honest. A person needed the ability to make a quick decision in the frequent insanity they inhabited.

 _Decisiveness if the mark of a true monarch…_

"Are you royalty?"

His gray eyes locked on hers. "Are you referring to Yuria's babble? No. I was a knight, in my most _recent_ memory, but not of any substantial bloodlines."

They came up to the petrified remains of a dragon, or, what _appeared_ to be a dragon. After witnessing the black, formless ichor that leaked from the ones on wall surrounding Lothric, she began to think that these things were something else, entirely. They only mimicked dragons.

"Do you think dragons still exist?"

He turned to her, his eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you so full of questions today? I had one weak moment below, making the mistake of asking you a thought provoking question. Now it's like the flood gates were released."

Her eyes became furious, as she calmly reached for a bolt in her satchel. She turned away from him, readying one in the chamber. He sighed in annoyance.

"We've already killed everything here. You're wasting supplies and ruining the tension on your str-"

She swerved towards him and let a bolt fire into his leg. He yelled in pain, crashing to the ground, grabbing at the wound.

"What the hell?!"

She stepped over him, walking back to the entrance to the elevator. She had had enough of him for the day.

* * *

"Aye, siwmae?" Leonhard was leaning up against outer stone wall of the shrine. He was attempting to bait a response by catching her while she was preoccupied.

Scarlet was busily pouring over a few old texts; borrowed from the supercilious sorcerer below. She was outside, on an upper ledge of the shrine. She had lifted herself up from a boulder to the side, making herself a quiet, study area, away from prying eyes.

Except, it appears, it was not as remote as she had hoped.

"Yn dda iawn, ac yr ydych?"

 _Ah, so the traitorous snake below had an ounce of truth to her_.

"I am always well when seeing you, my lady."

Her eyes slowly glanced from the parchment in her lap, up to the flamboyant rogue to her right. She had a look of incredulousness, and her mouth was contorted into a partial frown.

"Lies do not become you, my friend."

He placed his fingers under his mask and lifted it off. He found it much easier to communicate with her when she could observe his facial expressions. His fear of rejection due to his scars had long dwindled; she cared not. It was also undesirable to wear it for long periods of time, as the metal inside would eventually chaff around the edges of his face.

He turned towards her, a warm smile on his lips. "Lies are something you are undeserving of."

She grinned, turning back towards the literature in her lap. "Lies are what make up this world, it seems. Misconceptions and manipulation are more of the norm. Honesty is either for the weak or the foolish. While I do not consider myself weak, I, therefore, must be foolish."

"Your honesty has contributed to your survival. That is more than most can claim."

"My faith in my close friends yielded such. Whether that is also foolish, we shall see."

"To have faith is not foolishness."

"It is if it leads you down a destructive path, wrought with only pain and suffering."

He shook his head, looking off in the distance towards the mountains. "I fear what your memory holds, that you are able to voice such claims with unwavering confidence."

An image flashed. The metallic glaze of something surrounded her. The sound of cracking glass ruptured through her ear drums, and she felt the cold, hardness of a body in her arms. Pain flared as her eyes rolled back. Her voice strained to make any sounds.

Arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against something warm and soft. She gripped onto him, straddled between his legs on the stone outcrop of the shrine. He held her, rocking her a little, like a small child. Her breathing was erratic. She focused, trying to ease the pain in her head, a little at a time.

After a few moments passed, she felt able to speak, although weakly. "As…odd, as it sounds…it is…becoming…less, painful…"

He brushed some of her hair aside, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. "You are cursed. Pain will always follow during any resurgence of your past."

Her eyes closed shut, and she attempted to focus on the brief images she was just shown. Occasional bouts of sharp stinging would develop, and her body would twitch in response. He held her tighter.

"Metal. Smooth…nothing like I have seen here. I… _we_ …" Her eyes focused in the distance; a large body of water dripped over the horizon. " _The sea_ …"

"The province of Zern had faded long ago, from the history of this world. Only trace mentions of it can be found, and within the rarest of texts. The last known survivor was a humble merchant. The time and place of their existence is unknown."

She smiled, burying her face in the scent and warmness of his overcoat. "Been reading up on me, have you?"

She felt the soft rumble of a chuckle through his chest. "Only for scholarly pursuits."

"Mmhmm, of course."

They sat there a few moments, taking in the fleeting serenity of the collapsing reality around them. A loud noise resonated from inside the shrine. Her head snapped up, and they both made eye contact.

"It's not what you think!" Randull's voice echoed out into the open. Scarlet jumped up, scampering over the side of her "study", and down the small cliff from the crumbling tower, next to the man-tree. Inside the shrine, she stumbled onto something she would never have expected to see.

 _Well, not entirely._ _It is Randull, after all…_

The Firekeeper had thrown a bucket of dung on Randull. He was sitting on the ground, one arm stretched out towards her, and the other aimed at the disappearing Sirris. His armor was off, and all he was clothed in was the tattered, gray undergarments that he typically wore as a base layer.

"Trust me! Nothing happened. She tripped and I merely caught her. You know I would never be unfaithful."

Scarlet ran her palm over her face, as she looked up at the ceiling. He needed to quit doing this; the Firekeeper was their only salvation to ever finish this perilous "quest". She felt the presence of another next to her. She stretched out her hand, signifying the two below them.

"This is what you call _faith_ in friends. And you wonder why I think it's a foolish notion?"

He laughed, causing Randull to snap his head upwards towards his audience. He groaned.

"Fucking _great_ …the rogue…"

She cupped her hands over her mouth. "Language!"

Randull gave her some sort of sign with his hand and finger. She presumed it was meant to be offensive. She watched as he rolled over, bickering to himself about how he'd never get the smell out.

"My lady, I must implore, what are your feelings towards me?"

A grin lingered on her lips, as she turned to him. "You mean in regards to having faith in you as my friend?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Eh…"

His eyes narrowed in on her, and his body took a rigid posture. "Eh? What does _eh_ mean?" His voice dripped with offense.

Her eyes gave him a doubting look, and a partial frown formed. "You invade. You cut people's tongues out, which you offer to a woman who births human-like slugs. You also hide your true motives. If you were me, what would you think?"

His stern glare turned softer, and a glimmer could be made in his blue eyes. "Dually noted, madam."

She reached out, grabbing one of his gloved hands. "However, you have yet to cause me harm, nor a reason to mistrust your motives. You are a quite mischievous, yes, but…I hope my faith in your character is not misjudged."

Her eyes glanced up, meeting his. "For without hope, what do we have?"

She felt the squeeze of her hand, before he dropped it. He bowed, turning away from her and receding into the shadows. She was unsure what the future would play out between them; if disappointment was all that lingered on the fringes of what was a mere delusion in her mind.

She could only _hope_ she was wrong…


	10. Chapter 10

"Dear god, you smell."

They were huddled next to each other, hidden behind some brush, as they watched the movements of the Darkwraiths in front of them. They were trying to find a break in their patterned patrol; enough that they could slip into the Keep. The Darkwraiths were formidable foes, and best avoided, if possible.

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious." He leaned in to whisper, causing her to put her hand over her mouth, gagging.

"I have no idea how you attract so many women. Nor do I understand why they keep believing your obvious lies."

He grinned. "Says the girl who was quite smitten with me at the beginning."

Her head slowly turned towards him; her eyes narrowed. "That was right after I woke up from being _dead_ , and my mental faculties were diminished."

He scoffed, giving her a disgusted look. "How uncouth."

She rolled her eyes, turning back towards the black, mutated remnants of great warriors from a time long passed. It appears they would reach towards the stone stairs, stepping over the mutilated corpses of the demon, goat-men, then turn around and proceed down the pathway. She watched as they passed, and grabbed Randull, pulling him along the edge of a small cliff. The Darkwraiths paid no notice, and they hurried up the stairs to the entrance.

She loaded her crossbow, as he pushed the heavy, wooden doors open. A loud creaking resonated inside, and she stepped past him, her sights aimed on any movement. The chamber was massive; torches sporadically lit the walls, causing eerie shadows to bounce around. Randull rushed in behind her, and the doors swung close, creating a massive noise that made them both shutter.

She stepped forward, tripping on something soft. He reached out, grabbing her arm to keep her from falling. While steadying herself, she looked down... _and froze_.

Bodies littered the ground. Her eyes squinted. They were _everywhere_. The corpses were identical to the other; each wearing a reddish-black, leather armor, with metal reinforcements woven in at critical points. Along their backs were tatter, red capes. A clanging of metal caused her eyes to snap forward.

There were two of these… _men_ , engaged in combat. She watched as the victor shoved a large greatsword through the chest of his assailant. She looked at Randull, who looked back at her; their eyes both wide, in astonishment.

 _They were so dead_.

The victor slowly turned towards them, raising his long, greatsword with one hand, while crossing the left at the elbow. It held a small dagger. She blinked. The next thing she remembered was a hand on her shoulder, and a greatsword plunging through her abdomen. The victor growled in her ear.

" _Weak…_ "

* * *

They needed help, this much was true. After four attempts, each ending up in outright slaughter, Randull had went back to the shrine to restock their items. She dug in her pockets, feeling around for the chalky-soap sticks she had bought from the hand maiden.

She couldn't quite remember, but she was _pretty sure_ you used these to summon "others". Each potential "champion of the flame" seemed to split from the focal point of shrine, creating alternative realities, which mimicked each other.

She scratched her head. _Even Orbeck had a hard time grasping the concept_.

She pulled out a red and white stick. Her eyebrows furrowed. _Shit_.

"Well, my hair is red, so I'll go with red. If I'm wrong, then I guess I'll end up back here."

She bent down on the stone floor. What would she write? She bit her bottom lip, thinking.

"Need Assistance – Possessed Assholes"

 _Sounds good_.

She put the soap sticks back into her pocket, and sat on the ground, patiently waiting for a figure to rise from the words. The sounds of the swamp and demon, goat-men would occasionally echo in the distance. Her head was propped up by her palms, and she found her eyelids slowly becoming heavier.

 _Nothing_.

"Well, this was a-"

She felt a tingling over her body. Looking down, she noticed a red haze beginning to cover her.

" _Fuck…_ "

* * *

 _Oh…this was not good._ _NOT…GOOD…_

She had been summoned as an invader, by accident. By her uncanny ability to do the _stupidest_ things possible. Her hands were gripping her hair, as she ran around in a circle on a small island in the swamp, fully panicked. Around her she saw the disgusting, horrifying goat-men, lingering in the trees, and behind the rotting vegetation that dripped off the trunks. They, however, took no notice of her.

Which was beneficial, since she had left her crossbow back at the bonfire… _in an entirely different reality_.

Weaponless and marked as an invader. She was a dead man walking.

"The black crystal!"

She felt along her pockets, digging into her satchel at the side.

"Oh no…no, no, no…."

 _Gone._

She fell on her knees, letting the cold moisture of the soil below her seep in through her cloth armor. She was stuck, stranded. The only thing she could do was hope for a swift death.

The distant ping of metal clashing was heard in the distance. She stood up, slowly making her way towards the noise. The poisonous water had no effect on her.

"Must be the red haze…"

She sloshed through the swamp, getting nearer and nearer to the sounds of combat. Ducking behind a large trunk, she peaked around. A fully armors figure, in knight's attire, was engaged in battle with a Darkwraith.

 _They were losing_.

The knight took a blow to the side, and Scarlet heard a feminine grunt resonate, as the figure flew across, crashing into a tree opposite of where she was hidden. The Darkwraith slowly strode forward, grabbing the unconscious woman by the arm, lifting her up as it readied to plunge its blade into her armored chest.

A large rock thrown at its head knocked it off balance, and the knight crumpled back on the ground. It slowly turned, the red, murderous eyes focusing in on Scarlet.

She stood there for only a moment, before taking off, back in the direction she had come from. The fast-paced footsteps of her pursuer taunted her from behind. Sweat rolled down her face…she had to keep going.

Something shoved her, and she went face-first into the disgusting swamp water. The clang of a sword being unsheathed cut through the eerie silence, and she closed her eyes, awaiting her eminent death.

A few bodies splashed next to her, and she heard the Darkwraith wail in frustration. She looked up; the demon goat-men had ambushed her attacker. This was her opportunity to sneak off. She pulled herself to her feet, running as fast as she could up a small, cliff that jetted out of the swamp.

Her neck twisted around, making sure that nothing followed her. The Ghru were busily ripping the Darkwraith to shreds; one of its arms was torn from its socket, and strewn across water, smacking into a tree. She turned back around.

"Whoa!"

She tumbled off the side of the cliff, landing on the hard ground and whacking her head against the stone. She instantly saw black.

* * *

She came to later, curled into herself, shivering from the cold, muddy soil below her. She heard the crunching of footsteps, and saw two reflective, silver boots invade her vision.

"Thou hath saved me from my destined death. And for that, I should spare thy life."

The woman removed her helmet, letting it fall to the side. Beautiful, wavy blonde hair tumbled out. Sky blue eyes locked in on hers, set within an eloquent and refined face. Memories slipped in from the recesses of Scarlet's mind, and her body twitched from the pain that came with. _This woman…she knew her._

"However, thou do bear the mark of something my convenient greatly desires. My apologies."

Tears streamed as she rolled over, letting her arms fall to the side in defeat. She saw the glimmer of metal raise above her, and she closed her eyes, accepting her fate. The women standing over her did not remember, and perhaps, that was for the best.

The sword fell on the ground next to her.

A painful grunt was heard, followed by the sick sound of metal scraping bones. A bloody gurgle resonated, and she felt a body hit the ground near her. The smell of an unkindled, burning into ashes, filled her senses.

She opened her eyes. A silver mask, covered in a red haze was gazing upon her. Piercing blue eyes met hers.

"I am beginning to think that invasions may not be your specialty, my lady."

She looked over to the disintegrating figure next to her. Golden locks began to slowly dissipate, leaving nothing but ash. She lifted her torso, pulling herself to the small, flickering soul left in the woman's wake. She cradled it in her hands, tears beginning to fall.

"May I have this, please?" She looked up at the rogue, an expression of pain and brokenness on her face.

He nodded, kneeling next to her, as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "My lady, what happened?"

The bright, yellow soul flickered, exuberating a familiar warmness she had long forgotten.

She looked back at him. "You killed my sister."

* * *

His companion had been melancholy ever since she returned with the Ringfinger from her accidental invasion. They had beaten the Abyss Watchers, and were, currently, pushing forward into the depths of the catacombs below. He had attempted conversations with her, but the most she could muster as a response was a forced, broken grin.

His legs reluctantly climbed the stairs of the shrine. _He loathed this man_ …

" _Ashen One_ , what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe this honor?"

"Shut it, Finger. What happened with Scarlet? And how is it you keep finding her during invasions?"

The rogue looked the other direction, gazing down into the depths of the shrine. She was, no doubt, speaking with the sorcerer, attempting to find the answers she, now, desperately sought. What had transpired pained him; he was not familiar with guilt.

"I believe…some of her memory resurfaced."

He flipped his visor up, giving Leonhard an incredulous look. "You're kidding?"

The silver mask glimmered in the candle light, as he shook his head. "That is not all. When I found her, the host was ready to plunge their blade into her chest. I disposed of them, naturally…"

Randull rolled his eyes. This man was simply a chore to speak to. Why Scarlet _willingly_ sought his company, he would never understand.

"However, she knew this woman."

"A woman? Who?"

He shrugged, pushing off the pedestal to move towards the edge of the overlook. "She claimed it was her sister. That is all I know."

"Why didn't you ask?"

He turned towards his dull acquaintance. "Because she will speak when she is ready to, not when I tell her to."

Randull sneered, irritated.

"As to your second inquiry; I marked her, by a means I feel unnecessary to elucidate, especially to those with limited cognitive aptitudes. It allows me to pinpoint her location, should she ever invade, or _be_ invaded. It is a measure I felt essential for her continued protection, since your guardianship skills are considerably _lacking_."

His lip raised in a snarl, and his right hand itched for his blade. He would enjoy nothing more than to run it thr-

"She will seek answers, my _fatuous_ confrère. My suggestion is to push forward into Lothric Castle, proper. Within its bowels, you will find archives which may possess the knowledge she pursues."

The rogue tilted his head, his eyes focused on the knight before him. "Unless, of course, you would prefer I escort her there…"

Randull turned away from the rogue, heading back down the stone steps. "Rot in hell, Ringfinger."

"Do come back for another visit, _Ashen One_. It is _always_ a pleasure…"

* * *

"It was… _suggested,_ that we make our way towards the Grand Archives. That will take us some time, though. I do not believe we can access that area until we have another Lord Soul."

Her depression was lessening, although their current surroundings were not doing much to help. They were huddled at the end of a small corridor in the catacombs underneath the Keep, near a long-forgotten bonfire. On the other side of the barred doorway was where she met the first of her untimely deaths in these tombs.

The large ball of bones slammed against the bars, causing her to jump. The memory of being flattened came tumbling to the forefront of her mind. She groaned.

"That's fine. At least I have a goal that consists of doing more than following you around."

He raised his visor, narrowing his eyes on her. "Once again, you act like that's a bad thing. I would have you to know, for a fact, that no less than three women would kill to be in your boots right now." He took a swig of his estus flask.

"The hand maiden doesn't count."

He choked, coughing on the glowing liquid. She laughed; the first time in weeks. She knew Randull had been worried; she simply needed time to digest the information at hand. Her mood had finally improved enough.

"I do not remember much, only that she was my sister, and that she was dead in my arms."

He lowered his flask, looking at her with widened eyes. _He was not expecting this conversation so soon._

"It is simply…shocking. Nothing more. To remember another, yet they have no recollection of you. It is beyond painful."

He stood up, moving over next to her, where he seated himself again. He put an arm around her shoulder, dragging her to the side so she could lean on his cold, uncomfortable armor. She rolled her eyes but did not protest; he was doing his best to be supportive.

"Do you want me to kill him?"

She looked up at his face. "Who? Leonhard?" She grinned. "He didn't know any better, and she was going to kill me, regardless. Besides, I have been content to let him stew in his own guilt. I consider it beneficial for his mental wellbeing to experience that, particular, emotion."

He laughed, squeezing her shoulder. "You are quite vindictive, my dear."

She chuckled, evilly. " _Very_."

They sat there, side by side, staring into the bonfire. The sound of the ball of bones slamming into the bars near them was beginning to grate her nerves.

"So what did you tell Anri? I had left you two alone, since she is your betrothed." She was trying to hold back laughter, but a snort accidently slipped out, instead.

He groaned. "I got a look at her face. It wasn't pleasant."

"That's because she's hollow, not vain. That's just you." He shoved her off him, and she laughed. "What did she say, though?"

He sighed, his eyes returning to the bonfire. "Horace disappeared. She's being incredibly naïve with regards to his hollowing. I didn't tell her my thoughts; I was unsure if she would handle the information well."

"So, the grunter is running around the catacombs, completely insane?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I'm sure everything will just be _jolly_ , and we have nothing to worry about."

He turned towards her, his face perplexed. "You're kidding, right?"

"I have a thing for the silent types." She turned to face him, giving him a dead serious look.

Randull stared at her. His expression riddled in confusion. After a few seconds, he erupted in laughter.

They remained in front of the fire a bit longer, before reluctantly standing up and gathering their gear. Leaving the bonfires always seemed to be the hardest part of the journey. They ducked back out into the connecting hallway, dodging the second ball of bones.

"By the way, I meant to ask you about the day you had a bucket of feces dumped on your head: _did_ you sleep with Sirris?"

He pushed himself flat against the wall, allowing the collection of bones to pass. "Define _sleep_."

"You have got to be joking…"

"She pressured me."

She shot a bolt into the skeletal remains of a swordsman. Its red eyes focused on her, and it made its whirlwind attack, trying to overwhelm her with its quick movements. She hit it again, dead center into its skull, staggering it. Randull came up from behind, slicing it in two with his greatsword.

Scarlet put her hand on her hip, as she swung her crossbow over her shoulder. "Somehow, I doubt she pressured you. What about the Firekeeper?"

He shrugged. "She…doesn't, exactly… _know_."

Her hand smacked into her face, as she pulled it down, staring at the ceiling. "Is there anyone you _haven't_ had sex with?"

He nervously grabbed at the back of his neck, glancing around the long, two story chamber they were standing in. "Well, there's you…"

"Irina?" Her eyes narrowed in on him. He turned from her, gradually making his way towards an exit to the right. "I hope Eygon slices your balls off."

"That…is a terrifying thought. But I think I am safe; she didn't know it was me."

"Who did she think it was?"

He grinned at her. "Hawkwood."

Her mouth formed a grimace. "That's… _cruel_."

He pointed at her. "Hey, it was either him or your rogue. However, I found I was unable to pull off his accent and style of speech without vomiting."

"I'm going to confiscate that ring. You were of a much better quality of character prior to wearing it."

He held his arms wide open. "My dear, this is how I am, _naturally_." He bowed for her, snickering in the process. She rolled her eyes, pushing past him.

Another skeletal swordsman awaited them in the next area. It was standing on an overlook, gazing out across a large ravine. She quietly crept up behind it, stopping just before it could feel her breath on its back. She heaved forward, catching it by surprise and shoving it off the cliff. She wiped her hands off, turning to Randull with a satisfied smile.

Something glimmered to her left, and she squinted her eyes. "I think that's Anri? What is she doing up there?"

Randull's gaze was focused below, at the bottom of the ravine. He crouched at the edge, straining his eyes to make out the black figure that stood in the water at the basin.

"Well, looks like we found Horace."

Scarlet knelt next to Randull, managing to make out the same observation. She glanced back up, seeing Anri staring straight ahead, not once looking at her feet.

"No offense, but your future wife doesn't seem too bright."

"Tell me about it."

They moved into the next area, creeping along the walls as to avoid the massive pile of bones in the middle. Slowly, they made their way up to Anri; Scarlet kept a few paces behind, keeping a watch for any approaching hostile.

"Perhaps he's left the catacombs? Oh, Horace, where have you run off to? Have you abandoned me? No, what a horrible thought..."

 _Someone has abandonment issues._

After Randull reassured his future bride that he would do all in his power to locate Horace, they left her small alcove, and proceeded to walk to the long, wooden bridge that stretch between the ravine. Scarlet looked over the edge; it was a _long_ way down.

She nervously stepped out, placing her foot on the rickety bridge. It groaned under her weight, wobbling a bit. Her stomach churned; this was going to be difficult.

Bones snapped behind them. Randull turned, seeing a few skeletons arranging their skulls, each turning to face them, waving sharp objects in their hands. He scooped Scarlet up, sprinting across the bridge as fast as he could. The sounds of bones clicking grew louder. He threw her down, unsheathing his greatsword from his back, and took two giant swipes at the rope foundation which held the bridge in place.

Skeletons clamored after them, tripping over each other, causing a few to plummet to their second death below. Their collective weight caused the rope to snap, and they fell in a massive pile to the bottom. She crawled over to the edge, glancing to see if any had hit Horace; he remained, unfazed.

She rubbed at her hip; it ached. Sometimes Randull underestimated his strength, but in this instance, he had tossed her on top of the only jagged rock in the area. She pulled herself up, limping a bit, attempting to stretch out the bruised area. Her eyes spotted Randull, standing still, staring up at the pathway ahead of them. _Something was off_.

"Do you sense something?" He answered her with silence. She walked next to him reaching out to take his hand in hers. He jerked, looking down at their intertwined hands, then over to her concerned eyes. She gave his hand a squeeze.

"This…place. There is something ahead. Something I _know_. It is not good, _I can feel it._ "

"Is it related to your feelings with the dead wolf in the woods?"

" _Incapacitated_ wolf…it was not dead. And, yes."

They stood there, staring up at the corridor that emanated an uneasy, corrupted feel. She let go of his hand, proceeding to walk forward. He snatched her arm, pulling her back.

"No."

Her eyes narrowed in on his. " _No?_ Why?"

He looked around. "I need to get you back. You can't be here."

She grabbed at his hand, trying to remove it from her arm. "Calm down, Randull. You're panicking. It's only your memories. Take a few, deep breaths." His grip tightened, and he pulled her forward, as he wrapped an arm around her back.

"There's no bonfire. By the flame, Ciaran, I need to get you out of here!"

She reached up, grabbing the sides of his face with her palms and pulling it down towards hers. His gray eyes were dilated, panicked and unfocused. " **Calm…down.** "

His eyes snapped to hers. His breathing was raspy. She rubbed her thumbs along his cheekbones, knowing that it was a mere illusion. She briefly wondered if he even felt touch on his false skin.

A couple more blinks were made, before she saw his eyes begin to return to a normal appearance. She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Keeping her focus, she smiled softly.

"Hey there…how is our resident philanderer feeling, hmm?"

He blinked a few more times. Suddenly, she saw his lips form a scowl, and his eyes narrow. " _Philanderer_? That was uncalled for, not to mention, far from true."

She laughed, tapping his face lightly with her hand. She stepped back from him, bending down to pick up her crossbow, holding her bruised hip in the process. The aching was beginning to spread; they needed a bonfire.

She loaded a bolt. "Come on, let's get this over with." She began walking up the small incline that lead to the corridor ahead. Heavy, stone doors appeared at the end of the stone hall.

"Royalty?"

Randull nodded, still trying to gather his wits from his temporary lapse in self. "I am unsure who, though. My specialties in life involve combat, not so much history lessons."

" _So it seems._ "

He glared at her, unamused. He stepped forward, leaning in to use his body weight as leverage, slowly opening the heavy doors. Scarlet peaked behind him with her crossbow aimed.

A large chamber with a plethora of pillars laid before them. The floor tiles were in disarray from the centuries of neglect, hiding the once grandness of the room they stood in. Various pots and vases were scattered along the floor, covering most of the area. She assumed these were offerings, from long ago. Whoever this person was, the were considered important, no doubt.

In the middle of the room was stone table, with a worn, faded cloth thrown over the flat surface. On top was a jeweled goblet, formed from a skull. Candles flickered in an ominous draft, lit by an unknown entity, far before their arrival. She walked up to the alter, taking a more detailed look at the goblet. Her eyebrows furrowed. It refracted no light. It was as though it was _absorbing_ it.

One of the jewels sparkled. One of her eyebrows raised, and she reached out to touch it. Randull saw her movement from the corner of his eye. He sprinted towards her.

"Scarlet, no!"

Black fog began to pour out of the goblet, running down the table, outwards onto the floor. She felt Randull grab her shoulders and yank her back. The black mist continued to grow, shrouding everything it touched. Before long, they were standing in darkness.

Randull squeezed her shoulders. " _The Abyss…_ "

Something glimmered in the pitch blackness, and she immediately raised her crossbow, heading towards it. She heard Randull's greatsword being unlatched from its holster. The gold band twinkled in the darkness, and she fired a bolt.

A creature roared, and she saw the upper torso of a giant skeleton, adorned with the crown of a king. Around its wrists were gold bracelets, imbued with light. _This must be what is keeping it stationary._

She yelled to Randull, dodging the swipe of one of its long arms. "Should we break the bracelets?!"

He swiped at its hands, causing the creature to let loose an ear-piercing shriek. "Yes! Send it back to the Abyss!"

She fired a multitude of shots, managing to shatter one of its anchors. It roared in frustration, erratically swiping. She felt the impact of its back swing hit her chest, and she flew backwards, crashing onto the ground, flipping over on her head. She gasped; the wind had been knocked out of her.

Randull charged in, placing a powerful downwards thrust on the last, remaining bracelet. The gold band shattered, and the creature screamed, clawing desperately at the ground, as the Abyss pulled it back to its dooming fate.

The black mist began to whip violently passed him, and his shielded his face. Eventually, the chamber they were in reappeared. He glanced at the goblet; it leaked the black essence of the Abyss. His eye twitched, as a dark voice resonated in his mind.

" _You cannot escape your destiny…_ "

A pained, moan echoed behind him. He turned, noticing the crumbled form of his companion, twisted next to one of the pillars. He ran over, skidding on his knees, as he pulled her into his lap. Her chest had been smashed. Some of her ribs were broken and protruded through the skin. Others had punctured her lungs.

He lifted her hat off, exposing the massive flow of blood from her mouth. She gasped, breathing in a mixture of liquid in her lungs. Her body began to convulse, and she gripped his arm. He looked to the right; a bonfire.

"Hold on for me. Just a little longer…" He picked her up, carrying her over to the unlit bonfire.

He reached out, grabbing the hilt of the fire, watching as the spark jumped to his arm, then back to flare up into a massive flame. He looked in his arms, the grin on his face falling. She was almost entirely ash; he had been too late.

A warm, glowing green soul emerged, and he picked it up, removing his gloves to cradle it in his bare hands. It flickered, resonating a soothing feeling that spread across his skin. Even when she was nothing more than a fleeting essence, she still provided him comfort and serenity. It was something he had, shamelessly, taken for granted. One day, she may not be there…especially if he continued down the path he was being guided along.

He grabbed the hilt of the bonfire sword; his mind deep in thought.


	11. Chapter 11

My " _technique_ _"_ with the bridge beast is basically to hit it from the stone gateway/entrance, while it fades in and out. I'm all about that cheese...

Anyways, I attempted to have the main character do a version of that below, minus the fading.

* * *

While her stamina had increased tenfold from when she first clawed her way out of her tomb, her ability to sustain physical impacts was still rather… _lacking_.

The greatsword made a piercing squeal as she dragged it across the cobblestone floor. Sweat poured down her temples, and she grunted a few times, dropping the massive item with a loud clatter. Randull casually strolled past her, whistling a nameless tune.

He stopped at the spot where he first pulled the coiled sword from Gundyr. The bonfire burned brightly, and he leaned to his side, soaking in its blissful warmth. He lifted his visor, giving his companion a wide grin.

"Put your legs into it, _grunt_. I haven't got all day."

She made an offensive hand gesture at him. He laughed; he was rubbing off on her.

"You will thank me when you are able to survive a killing blow from an adversary much, much stronger than you."

She dropped the sword, falling on her knees in front of the bonfire. Her breathing was heavy.

"How…do…you…use…that…thing…" She inhaled, making a gasping noise.

He picked it up with one arm, swinging it over his shoulder in an effortless, smooth movement. She whined, followed by a groan.

"I have been training since I began to walk." He looked her over, frowning. "I am going to presume you did very little physical activity in your previous life."

"No idea where you would get that impression." The clang of something hitting the floor sounded next to her. She looked over; it was a shield.

"You are rather tall for a woman. Your bone structure is quite robust. My inclination says that your ancestry is that of warriors. You, however, are not."

 _Robust bone structure?_ _What in the-_

"Today…we work on blocking. If you cannot withstand the typical blow from an enemy, wielding a weapon will be useless. You are not built for speed. Your current skill level with remaining in the shadows is average, at best. Some abilities I will be able to refine, others will be avoided, as they are simply not a talent you possess."

She crawled over to the shield. It had two leather buckles inside, meant to go around her arm. She laid her left in place; it didn't feel right. She laid her right arm down; it, also, felt awkward.

"Which is your dominant hand?"

She looked at them. "I, sort of, use both."

"You shoot with your right."

"That is because I see better with my right eye."

"Catch."

He tossed a small satchel at her. She stuck her left arm out, catching it. Looking inside, she noticed it was empty.

"Put the shield on your right arm."

She leaned over, strapping the medium sized, wooden shield on her right arm. Standing up, she moved her arm around, judging the weight and feel of the object. The shield covered an area from her shoulder to her abdomen. It was not large, by any means, and nothing like the massive ones Randull sported before his greatsword.

He threw the greatsword to the side, unsheathing a dull, bastard sword. He had swiped it off a dead corpse earlier. While he had trained many recruits during his previous life, he had never trained someone so… _weak_. Her ability to survive, so far, was nothing more than luck.

"Stand, like you are preparing to intercept a strike."

She spread her legs only a few inches and locked her knees. She held the shield up, ducking her head behind it, as she shifted her shoulders up. She closed her eyes, turning her head slightly back, already wincing.

 _My god…_

He walked over, stabbing the sword in the ground. He reached out, grabbing a hold of her arms.

"No, no…and no. Let me position you, _correctly_." He knocked on her ankles with his foot, edging them apart, while using his knee to bend hers. His hands pushed her shoulders back, lowering the shield to chin level, as he brought her arm across her chest. He moved her head to face forward.

"Never let your opponent out of sight. If you do, you are dead. You are in the defensive; your focus is to watch their movements, anticipate their attacks. You are able to maneuver your shield along the axis of your shoulder, which should give you more than enough motility to block impending blows."

She had, absent-mindedly, relocked her knees. He tapped the back with his foot. "Always remember to keep your knees bent. It provides stability, not to mention it grants a faster reaction time."

"Don't I need armor?"

"No."

"Then why do you have it on?"

"This is heavier than my previous attire. I am constantly conditioning myself."

She frowned; he just _loved_ rubbing in his physical superiority…

He stepped back a few strides, then took a lax stance, setting his sights on the middle of her shield. Her body went rigid, and he saw her relock her knees. He took a step forward, swinging upwards, diagonally, smacking her shield with the flat side of the broadsword. Her form immediately broke, and he watched her arms wave in the air as she fell backwards on her bottom.

She laid there, her arms spread out, the buckles from the shield already leaving red indentations in her skin. He walked to her, leaning over. He tapped one of her knees with the sword.

"Keep them bent. Again, and we keep going until you have successfully blocked five strikes in a row."

She let her head thump on the cold stone underneath. Her arm already ached…

* * *

The enchanted city laid before her, caught in the blue, soft blanket from the glistening moon. It felt ethereal.

"Irithyll of the Boreal Valley. Here, the Pontiff reigns supreme."

"Still? Isn't most of this land in the lingering phases of death?"

"He is powerful, although, only a fraction of what he once was."

They headed down the pathway, towards the massive, curved bridge, leading to the city. The water sparkled underneath, and she saw puffs of white form from her breath. Her ears picked up a noise, and she turned her head back towards the entrance of the bridge.

 _Silence_.

She turned, facing towards the frigid city. Their research had indicated a key would be needed to enter. She felt for the small doll in her pack; Randull was oblivious to its significance.

 _Typical._

A soft, white light was glowing off to the side of the bridge. Scarlet wandered towards it, squinting her eyes to make out the elegant writing that appeared.

"A summons sign?" Her eyebrow raised under her black head covering. Randull appeared to her left, raising his visor up to get a better view. He turned to her.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

She rolled her eyes, as his form disappeared from their world. Or, perhaps, _his_ world. From time to time there were hiccups with teleporting to locations tied to the bonfires. She would end up in a world without him, but at the same location. To fix it, she would return to the shrine and wait for his arrival. Touching him while he grabbed the hilt of the coiled swords was the custom, now.

It was Sirris' summons sign. He would be _indisposed_ for quite some time. Scarlet gazed out over the sparkling, frigid lake below her. Nothing moved, nothing lived. It felt like the stagnancy of a lingering existence, long after death made its call.

The image of a mess of blonde curls and blue eyes edged its way up through the recesses of her mind. Her sister. Scarlet wondered where she was; if she was headed towards the same goal as Randull. Would they ever meet again? _Would Anwen remember her?_ Her sister's name had surfaced sometime after, not without much pain attached to it. Still, she was relieved to at least _know_ one name from her past.

Something massive landed on the bridge behind her. She twirled her body around, gasping. A large, bluish lizard-wolf was on its hind legs, howling. Massive, sharp teeth lined its mouth. Its hellish, glowing eyes darted around, before falling on her figure. Snarling, it dipped low, before sprinting forward towards her.

She dodged, barely avoiding a certain death. Its tail whipped around, hitting her in the back, sending her flying towards the stone archway, that served as the entrance to the bridge. Scarlet rolled over a few times, landing with a thud. Her blurry vision saw the beast almost topple over the side of the bridge, unable to stop its momentum. It pulled itself back, swinging its head around towards her. A loud, terrifying howl filled the air.

Scarlet pushed herself up, unlatching her crossbow off her back in one motion. The endurance training from Randull seemed to have paid off: she was still intact, and more importantly, not dead. She leaned with her right eyes, firing a flaming bolt into the beast's mouth. The howling ceased, but was followed up with pained, furious growls.

She swirled around, dodging around the side of the stone archway. Pressing her back up against the frigid stone, she loaded another bolt, aiming the crossbow to her right; she would attempt to shoot it in its eye when it ran past.

The violent vibrations of the beast's gallop caused her to stumbled a bit. It slammed into the archway; its head poking through, as its snout bit into nothingness in front of it. She heard a strained, grunt from its mouth, followed by scraping against stone. She smiled; it was stuck. Her crossbow discharged, and another bolt embedded itself into the large cranium.

The beast continued to snarl and snap furiously. Her bolts were expensive, and she did not want to waste them unless it was absolutely necessary. In the top band of her boot was a small dagger. She took it out, looking at it, then back at the giant beast before her.

 _Its teeth are bigger_ …

She glanced around, looking for anything sharp. A wispy flame flickered up the hill, from where they first entered the valley. She wondered…

[-]

Creighton's ashes were piled in the spot where he was cut down. The dead, frozen valley had no wind, and the ashes merely lingered around his red colored soul. The reclusive Finger had attempted to collect another pale tongue from Sirris. In her desperation of a losing battle, she had reached out for help.

A seductive, moan resonated underneath him. He glanced at Sirris' partially clothed body in his arms. She had her legs wrapped around his hips, as he thrusted into her at a steady pace, propped up on the side of the bridge. She was an attractive woman, who had willingly sated his carnal desires on more than one occasion. However, he doubted that their liaison would ever progress more than what it was at that moment.

He felt a sudden jerk on his body, and his vision went black. Coldness seeped through his lower half, as the warm body that had been close to him was suddenly gone. He appeared in front of a dead bonfire, where the embers at the bottom held only the bare shred of a glow. Glancing around he saw it was where they had marked their first entry into the Boreal Valley.

A shrieking, animalistic yell cut through the dead silence of the valley. He stood up, looking over the frozen brush, onto the bridge below. A flaming sword waivered in the air, leaving pathways of smoke in its wake. The sword plummeted into the head of a giant, lizard-like beast. It's death throes echoed, and he saw Scarlet put her foot on its head, yanking the bonfire's coiled sword out of the skull.

In an instant, he saw that she had turned around, sprinting fully towards his location. He panicked, looking around for anything he could cover himself with.

 _Nothing_.

"Hey Randull! I'm glad yo-"

He heard feet skitter to a stop across the dirt. Silence permeated the two. Slowly, footsteps came nearer, and he closed his eyes, turning his head to the side away from her; he wasn't quite ready for this.

She thrust the coiled sword back into the bonfire, causing it to erupt into a glorious flame. The heat immediately washed over him, and he felt his frozen bottom half come to life again. It was amazing how the ring he bought from Yuria could remain so true to his living form.

"I need to go back to the shrine to get some items."

He dared peeking at her. She waved her hand out, signifying his standing form. "Unless, of course, this is part of your on-going _conditioning_."

Her eyes withheld a mischievous sparkle. She grabbed the hilt of the sword again, and as he watched her form disappear, he heard the distant sound of laughter.

* * *

Randull had disappeared with the Firekeeper; she could only imagine as to _why_. She counted her bolts, as well as taking inventory of the rest of her items. She left the hood off, binding her hair back with a metallic clasp, instead. Where she was going, it would be _warm_. She glanced up, noticing that the spot Leonhard always stood in was empty. A disappointed sigh followed; maybe he would show up next time…

She spotted the bonfire, heading straight towards it.

"Ahh, I know you. Been some time since we met in person."

Scarlet stopped, turning towards the massive figure in black armor. _Ah, the asshole_.

"I just dropped in to see how she's getting on."

 _Yes, I bet._

Greirat scampered by from the main entrance to the shrine, running down into the depths below. His erratic laughs echoed throughout the grand temple. Scarlet had allowed him to go pillage again, but after he had not returned she had asked Siegward to locate the enthusiastic thief. Her eyes found the form of her rounded friend, and she nodded in appreciation, as he turned to exit the shrine.

"Now, what are you playing at with this circus? This cesspool of doddering old folk and degenerates. Couldn't be better. She must fit in perfectly here." He chuckled, tilted his massive helmeted head to the side.

"You are rather demeaning, not to mention hypocritical."

"You make such a bold claim for a weak, frail wrench."

She scoffed, turning from him. He wasn't worth the waste of breath.

Her hand grasped the hilt, and she envisioned the chamber where she first came into contact with the Abyss. A large, metal hand gripped around hers, and her eyes snapped open, as the scenery changed.

"Foolish is the feeble girl who rushes head first towards her death."

She groaned, rolling her eyes. The vision of the old King's chambers emerged, and she found herself walking over to a large pot, kicking it in frustration.

"You need to go back. I really, _really_ dislike you."

He stood, unabated, silently watching her grab at her hair, walking in small circles around the bonfire. It was rather charming, in an obnoxious way. He had his massive hammer slung over his shoulder. His sister's shield was hooked onto his back.

Her boldness towards him had garnered his interest; he also had grown bored since Irina found her new home at the shrine. The red-head's counterpart had, seemingly, become _occupied_ ; her, obvious, lack of common sense was a recipe for disaster without a chaperon.

He had an inclination of what the red-head was delving into, when overhearing her discussions with the pyromancer.

"So, the old man sent you to find Izalith, no doubt."

Her eyes snapped towards him, unable to locate his, as his repulsive helmet blocked all facial features. It was shaped like a gargoyle; the grotesque tongue hanging out of its snout.

"How do you even see? That armor is hideous."

"I see you perfectly fine."

Her frustration boiled; she wanted to scream. Why was he here?

"Get lost." She stormed past him, heading towards the large, open ravine where Anri was last seen. Cornyx had mentioned that the birthplace of pyromancy still remained, much deeper yet. There _had_ to be a way to get to it.

"All you faceless Undead, behaving as if you deserve respect."

She groaned, her patience already worn thin. "Really? And what would you call yourself? Besides an obstinate, sack of-"

He yanked her back as an arrow embedded itself into the stone wall where her head was. A skeletal archer from across the ravine still lingered. She sighed, reaching for her crossbow. She felt his massive body move closer to her from behind.

"I am allied to you, as long as Irina is kept safe. For you, it would be unwise to disregard such assistance." His voice was deep, tickling her ear drums. The smell of metal and sweat permeated her senses. She slowly turned her head, her eyes staring at the hideous helmet.

"So be it."

She leaned over the edge of the wall, firing her crossbow, watching as the skeletal archer plummeted into the ravine below. A sarcastic grunt was heard behind her, and she grinned to herself, moving forward to assess the broken bridge. It had split in half, due to the weight of the skeletons from before. Getting on her knees, she leaned over the edge, seeing a small outcrop below, and the flicker of light from a hidden entrance.

The rope from the bridge was still intact; in fact, the entire half of it was secured together. It appears the weak point of the bridge was across the ravine, where a few wooden boards were still dangling from the ropes.

She turned around, easing a foot down while holding onto the side rope, which was still secured to the large stakes that had held it up for ages. The wood creaked slightly, and she felt some movement from side to side, as it adjusted to her weight. She grinned, taking another step.

About half-way down, she heard her unwanted _companion_ speak. "How am _I_ supposed to get down there?"

She stopped, looking up at him. Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe you could start by taking off that stupid helmet. That might only reduce, _I don't know_ , half your weight." She continued her decent. "If you can get it off your big head."

Eygon growled; he was debating about leaving the snarky girl to her own fate, which would certainly be death. He knew the demons still inhabited the depths below. She wouldn't stand a chance…

He groaned, and began undoing the clasps and buckles of his armor. He would lower it down first. The rickety bridge would not be able to handle his full armored weight; this he was sure of. He pulled free one of the long sections of rope which used to serve as a handrail. Tying his armor up into a secure bundle, he edged it over, then slowly lowered it down, until he felt it hit the ledge below. He swung his legs over, and descended.

Jump the last few steps, he brushed the dirt off his clothes, and went to get his armor. His eyes glanced to the red-head at the side. She was staring at him.

"What's wrong, girl? You act as though you have never seen a man before, yet you keep company with one who seems incapable of keeping his pants on."

 _Does that mean he knows Randull slept with…_

"However, he better learn to keep them latched when around Irina. I do not take betrayal, lightly."

 _That answered that question._

"For the record, I do not go around having relations with my companions."

"Mmmm." His deep voice rumbled, as he crouched down, untying the large bundle of his gear, putting on the large breastplate first. Scarlet had been surprised at how he had looked. He was not the most attractive man she had seen, but he was also not as ugly as his personality would portray. He sported chin length, dark-blonde hair, slicked back. A large chin with a long, narrow nose gave his face angularity. His brow bone was thick, and hung over his brown eyes. He was paler, but most seemed to be in this world.

The atrocious helmet found its way over his head, and he turned to her, slinging his massive weapon over his shoulder. He waved his hand out, signaling her for the continue in front of him. "By all means, you first."

She unhooked her crossbow from the back, and slowly walked along the edge of the pathway, noting the flickering light from the hidden entrance up ahead. Some large vibrations could be felt through the floor; something massive lingered ahead.

They reached the entrance and her head slowly peeked around the corner; a fire demon. She went to move forward, her crossbow raised to shoot, when she felt a large hand yank her back. Before she could yell, he placed his hand over her mouth, looking towards the entrance with his hideous helmeted face.

The large footsteps of the demon neared, and an abnormal heat began to seep through the rock wall. She heard its menacing, deep growl. It snorted, shooting flames through the entranceway, charring the few stones scattered in front. Content that nothing was there, it turned to resume its usual patrol, guarding the crumbling remnants of the ruins below.

He leaned into her, lifting his helmet to the side, so he could whisper into her ear. "Those born of the Chaos Flame are not so easily bested, girl. My armor is forged in fire, and therefore, has plenty of resistance to it. I will head in first and you will weaken it from afar."

She looked up at him, her eyes widened a little from the sudden close contact. She was used to this from Randull, thinking nothing of it whenever they were pressed up against each other, either clinging on for their lives, or barely escaping with them. However, the current perpetrator-

He leaned in, connecting their lips, in a gentle movement out of character for his brass personality. She froze at first, shocked at the sensual feelings which erupted over her, and mostly from _who_ was causing them. _Even Leonhard had avoided it…_ Her body eventually betrayed her, and she found her mouth responding in kind. Her hands were placed against the rough edges of his breastplate, and it took all her willpower to shove him back.

A smirk spread across his lips, and he chuckled, before putting his helmet back on. He picked up his large hammer with both hands, then took off through the entrance towards the fire demon. Scarlet stayed where she was; her back up against the rock wall, her mind muddled. A large burst of flames came barreling through the entrance, causing her to recoil to the side.

"Anytime now, girl!"

* * *

Her eyes had been torn from their sockets, long ago. He knew if she had them, tears would have fell. His heart ached, but it had to be done.

"Ashen One…why?"

He had brought her to the top of the shrine, away from the others. It was a delicate subject that others should not hear, and a discussion that was long overdue. He had racked his mind for days, trying to think of the best way to tell the fragile, sweet girl in front of him.

No matter what, he knew it would end with her heart torn in two.

"The path I choose, is not that which you can follow." He walked to the corpse of the long-dead Firekeeper, kneeling beside the mummified remains. Black eyes stared out into nothingness. He removed his gloves, easing his fingers behind the organs, tearing them from the sockets. He stood, turning towards _his_ Firekeeper, his hand extended.

"Give me your hands. With these, you shall see."

He saw her tiny, delicate hands reach out, feeling along his large, calloused one. Slowly, she gripped the eyes, her mouth grimacing a bit in a questionable disgust. She took them, bringing them back to her chest. Her other hand lifted, pushing up on the silver, ornate band which covered her own eyes.

 _Or the lack of them._

Her eyes had been gouged out, and what was left was only the open, fleshy wounds. During all of their time together, she had never once removed it. He understood why.

She tilted her head back, moving her right hand over each empty socket, slipping in the black, wet orbs. Her eyelids blinked a few times, as she moved her face right side. The silver band fell back into its normal position.

Her breath hitched, and her knees went to give out. He rushed over, grabbing her arms to steady her. Her body continued to shake, and her breathing became rapid.

"Firekeepers…are not meant…to have eyes…it is… _forbidden_ …" Her breathing was normalizing, and he felt her push back on his outstretched arm, trying to right herself. A few moments passed, and she resumed her typical stoic and straight position.

"These eyes have revealed, through a sliver of light, frightful images of betrayal. A world without fire. Ashen one, is this truly thy wish?"

He stepped back from her, his hands anxious with a cold sweat. Would she accept his decision? Could he continue towards his goals without her mediations?

Her pink lips turned upwards into a devious smile. "Of course…" She laughed softly, keeping her composure.

"I serve thee, and will do as thou bid'st. This will be our private affair. No one else may know of this. Stay thy path, find lords to link the fire, and I will blindly tend to the flame. Until the day of thy grand betrayal."

He helped her back down the stairs, through the chamber where past Firekeepers had been thrown to their deaths, into the crumbling tower, and towards the inner sanctum of the shrine. Her hands left him, as she slowly walked towards her usual location. His heart felt a slight pain to it; she had accepted and moved on without any real remorse. Perhaps, it had been more to him, than it had been to her?

"Farewell, ashen one. Mayst thou thy peace discov'r."

* * *

She awoke back at the bonfire to the lower catacombs. It was next to the large lake, where the giant crabs thrived. Off to the right was a small passage, which led back to the bottom of the ravine where they had seen Horace some time ago.

Except he was still there. And he had sliced her head off.

She hopped up, stretching out her sore muscles. Something popped, and she looked down at her arms where some of the cloth had unwound. She froze.

 _Her skin…it was…_

"So your hollow self finally emerges, I see."

She glanced over to see the large, black form of her cantankerous companion. His comment did not irritate her; she was preoccupied with panicking.

"I'm…I'm not supposed to be like this. I have died, many times. _Why? How?_ " She was grabbing at her face, feeling the voids of where her eyes should have been. The dried, cracked skin stretched over her bones.

"Why are any of us chosen for anything, girl? It simply is. You accept it, or you grovel."

"This…this isn't good…" She was grabbing at her hair again. "I…I need to hide this."

Eygon chuckled. The entire situation was entertaining to observe. He had a feeling she had possessed a portion of the dark soul; such things were not unknown in Carim. Why it had waited this long to show, he did not know, nor did he understand her panic. All were undead in this cursed land…even himself.

She dug into her satchel, fumbling for anything she could use to hide her face. She would need to purchase a ring like Randull's. However, Yuria was the only one, she knew of, who sold them. Scarlet was worried: what if Yuria saw her as a threat to Randull's potential Lordship?

 _What if Randull saw her as one?_

"Eygon, I have a favor to ask…"

* * *

She fumbled with the ring under her gloved hand. They were at the inner chamber of a small stone house that interconnected on the edges of Irithyll proper. Randull had went to scout ahead towards the entrance of a cave, off to the edge of the frozen city. The Pontiff was rumored to be adversary with no known equal; he thought it best that they locate the Profaned Capital first, before they pushed onwards towards Anor Londo.

The flickering flames entranced her; her thoughts wandered. Why did she feel as though her newly found hollowness was best to be kept hidden? _Why did it feel familiar_?

Her sister's image floated to her mind again. The pain had returned, but it was no longer as crippling as it once was. She narrowed her eyes, trying to work through the sharp pricks, as the vision of Anwen came into focus.

The wavy, almost curly blonde locks twirled in front of her. They were in vast, flat field, stretching towards the horizon. The scent of vagrant flowers filled her nose. _This was home_.

Her sister stopped, suddenly. The sky began to darken, as lightning cracked in the distance. She looked down at her feet; water was beginning to rise from the soil. Her eyes glanced back up. She screamed as she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Her eyes refocused, and she found herself back in the chamber, staring at Randull's livid face.

"What is the matter with you?! I have been yelling your name for the past hour! I was almost kicked off the side of the cliff by a goddamn invader!"

Her eyes were wide, as she was struggling to come to terms with what she had just seen.

 _Anwen had been a hollow_.


	12. Chapter 12

Randull cleaved the undead hollow in two. He swung the large greatsword over his shoulder, letting out an annoyed sighed.

" _Bloody hollows_."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Aren't you a hollow, technically?"

"Yes, but I am not like these. I will not lose my sanity. These beings are… _lesser_."

She grabbed at the ring, hidden beneath her glove. His comment stung. Would he easily discard of her once her sanity was lost? She was not destined for Lordship, such as him, so it was only natural to assume that she would suffer the same fate of all those they had come across on their journey.

 _The fate her and her sister had been cursed with._

Although, the question begged as to why she had not become completely hollow yet. Her sanity should have left long ago, if her humanity had disappeared with each death. Yet, here she was, still as competent and alert as she had been when she first pulled herself out of her tomb. Perhaps…she possessed the Dark Sign, as well?

 _A competitor for the Lord of Hollows, much like Orbeck, then._ The thought gave her even more anxiety than the likely scenario of losing her sanity. She let out a shaky sigh.

He turned towards her, lifting his visor. "You have become awfully quiet, my dear. What troubles you?"

Randull had felt guilty for lashing out at her in frustration, back on the surface. It appeared that she had had another resurgence to her memory, but chose to keep the details withheld this time. Her melancholy had returned, although he recalled that it had begun prior to that.

She rapidly shook her head, signaling that nothing was wrong. Her eyes refused to meet his, and she nervously grabbed at her index finger on her right hand, a behavior he had seen her do recently. He turned his body, facing her, leaning in slightly. They were in a small prison cell, in the upper levels of the dungeons below the frigid city.

"You have been nervous around me, ever since your attempt to explore the ruins of Izaleth. What did Eygon tell you?"

Her eyes went big. "Nothing."

He continued to stare at her, an attempt to break her resolve and get her talking. Her vibrant green eyes stared back…she didn't even blink.

"Nothing?" He leaned in closer, causing her to take a step in the opposite direction. Her back hit the stone, damp wall. He continued to move forward, blocking her in the corner. Her eyes stared up at him, panicked.

"If you liked what you saw, I think we might be able to arrange something…"

 _One blink…another blink…_

"Wait, WHAT?!" Her shout echoed down the halls, followed by the rattles of the jailers' lamps in response. He put his hand over her covered mouth, doing his best to hold back his own laughter. Her eyes went from shocked, to pissed. She grabbed at his wrist, pushing it off her face.

"You chauvinistic pig." She whispered it as harshly as she could, easing her way past him, readying her crossbow. The footsteps of a curious jailer were getting nearer. They had come face to face with one already, learning the extent to the damage of their mesmerizing stare; it was best to take them out from a distance.

The hooded figure rounded the corner, and Scarlet let a bolt fly, hitting them square in the face. An inhuman shriek ripped through the corridor as the jailer crumbled to the ground. They were tall creatures, adorned in pointed, cloth head wear that bellowed out over their shoulders. Bronze masks, portraying an expressionless face, hid something sinister behind the metal. Their bodies were covered in thick, black robes, which dragged across the damp stone floor. It struck her as feminine, yet she had no desire to verify what was under the cloth.

Randull slapped her back. "Good show, old friend." He knelt in front of the corpse, rummaging through its pockets for anything valuable. Standing up, he swung his giant greatsword over his shoulder, proceeding through the doorway that the jailer had come in from.

She watched as he moved ahead of her, her thoughts pondering on his recent, sarcastic attempt to get her back into a "normal" mood. He always ridiculed any attraction they may have for each other. However, she couldn't help but wonder, did it exist? She had never seriously considered it, ever since the beginning of their travels; he had made it clear where his feelings lied.

What had transpired with Eygon in the catacombs still confused her. She had not wanted it to stop, and her mind could not arrive to any conclusion as to _why_. While she did not find the man horrendously attractive, it still caused her heart to beat a little faster when thinking on it.

 _Well, as fast as a shriveled up, hollowed heart could beat…_

Leonhard still had not returned. Perhaps it was his absence that was causing her current bout of emotions? She knew the rogue's mind was occupied elsewhere; on the devious goals that he hid underneath the covenant dedicated to the Mother of Rebirth. Besides, he seemed to know more about herself than she did. Perhaps he knew she was destined to eventually hollow?

"Randull…does Sirris know of your true form?"

She heard some items drop from up ahead; the rattle of an object lingering a few seconds afterwards. "That is an odd question to suddenly ask. The answer is: no."

"Will you tell her?"

His form reappeared in the doorway at the end of the corridor. "Why are you so interested?"

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing in on him. "Perhaps in my obsession to pine away at your undevoted love and adoration, I merely wish to rid myself of her in the easiest way possible."

A slow smile spread across his lips, followed by genuine laughter.

He would never tell her, Scarlet had known him well enough to figure that much out from his lack of a response. Mostly, his ego could never accept such a blow, should Sirris reject him. Only a handful knew of his true form. Only one knew of hers. Her smile faded as the thought returned, again. _Her dreaded hollowness._

"You know, I believe our mutual _friend_ , Eygon, is hollow."

Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. "What makes you say that?"

"Yuria mentioned him purchasing the same ring I wear. Perhaps it is him I should be concerned about, and not Orbeck." His eyes twinkled, as he gave her a devious smile. "Although, I doubt this world would miss either of them."

"He is not hollow." She said it with lack of emotion, gazing off into space. Her brain was still afire with fear of being found out, and the unknown consequences which would follow.

His eyes narrowed on her. "And how is it you know this, my dear?"

"I have seen him…"

"In what context?" His answer came abruptly. Her focus returned to his figure, now only a few feet in front of her. A sly smile spread across her lips.

"In a context that it is none of your business."

He stepped towards her, putting his hands on her shoulder, leaning in. "Scarlet, please be careful. That man is dangerous…even more so than the rogue, and you _know_ how much I loathe _him_."

She padded his hands. "Do not fear, my dear friend, I am not like you." She winked, stepping past him. "He also is mostly bark, but not much bite. However, he was quite helpful to me in my recent travels."

He laughed, following after her. "My, my…what would your precious rogue say?"

She snorted. "He hasn't returned for quite some time. Perhaps my intentions with shrouding him in an emotion he was not akin to did not play out as I would have liked." A barred cell was to her right, and she attempted to lift it, feeling the lock rattle; it would take more effort than it was worth to open. "And as for Eygon…while a little more palatable…I guess I'm not _that_ desperate…yet."

"Yet?"

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. " _Yet_. My, you are a curious one, indeed. For a man who sleeps with anything that moves, you sure are interested in my private affairs, or lack thereof."

He growled behind her as a devious smirk formed on her face.

"Firstly, I have made it my duty to protect you and assure you come under no harm. Secondly, I am merely providing services that enrich a woman's soul. None of them have complained."

An unknown jailer slid out from a small, side hallway, which was behind him. He felt the scorching hot burn of their branding iron, searing into the false skin on his back. He yelled while falling to his knees, temporarily paralyzed by pain. A large fire ball flew over his head, and a scream from the jailer quickly followed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a melted pool of blood and charred entrails.

Scarlet walked behind him, pushing on his shoulders to lean him further, while she examined his wound. The flesh was seared, but it had only done minimal damage; most of the pain was caused by the wound's location near his spinal cord. However, it would be uncomfortable for the duration of their time before the next bonfire.

"I believe…this is fate calling bullshit on your claims, my friend."

He whimpered.

* * *

Scarlet was running around, dodging the branding irons of two jailers. She fired her crossbow behind her, hitting one in the shoulder, causing it to drop the iron. It screeched, but, thankfully, fell behind. She reached in her satchel, loading another bolt in her crossbow as she maintained a running pace around the large, square pillar in the middle of the large room.

"A little help here!"

Randull turned, watching her dodge the swing of a branding iron, while following it up with another shot of her crossbow. _She had it under control_.

"I believe I would have no problem forgiving the past trespasses of such a beautiful woman."

"Oh, really…" Karla had to refrain from rolling her eyes. This was her savior? She sighed, she had dealt with much worse. Her eyes narrowed in on the glimmer of a ring she saw on his bare hand. _Interesting, a hollow._ "You are no ordinary man."

Randull stiffened his posture; his eyes losing their carefree, flirtatious expression. He noticed where her focus was, and quickly placed the glove back over his hand. Her brown eyes connected with his, and she forced a grin, shaking her head to signify her lack of care with his illusion. He sighed, sticking his hand out for her to grab. "Please, this is not a place for any to linger, while willing or unwilling."

She closed her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. "Very well. Besides, I've grown tired of imprisonment." She grabbed his hand, letting him help her up off the damp prison floor. "I am Karla, and I accept your proposal." Their intertwined hands began to increase in warmth. Closing her eyes, she focused on his essence, navigating where his world lied within the innumerable thin, tangled strings, which were loosely tied to each other. Her eyes opened; a hint of fire flashed behind the brown.

"I shall see you soon, champion." Her form disappeared, leaving Randull with raised eyebrows and a confused look.

"Ahh!" Scarlet's shout bounced off the walls. He swirled around, running down the side walkway that sat a few feet above the main floor. He rounded the corner, lifting his greatsword up, as he thrust it through the insides of a jailer. Pulling upwards, he ripped through the creature, severing it in two. Blackened, rotted bowels fell to the floor in a sickening, splattered noise.

He looked past the corpse, seeing Scarlet sprawled out on her stomach from where she had tripped by accident. Her heard swiveled around; murderous green eyes glared at him. A snicker escape.

"You…shut…your… _mouth_ …" She slowly pulled herself up, limping off to the side, wincing in pain with every other step. A large bucket of cold, dank water was pushed off to the side of the room. She walked up to it, dropping her pants, and plopped herself in.

 _The jailer had branded her ass._

A smirk crossed his lips, as he casually strolled up to her bare-bottomed form. He propped his greatsword against the wall, while proceeding to lean up against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked down at her; she was staring off into space.

"You have lovely legs." His smirk turned more devious.

"I'm ignoring you."

He laughed. Leaning towards her a little more. "So, my dear, what exactly happened in the Catacombs, hmm?"

He saw her close her eyes. "Once again, it is none of your concern."

Silence fell between them. The drips of water could be heard in the distance. "He told me you weren't that good in the sack."

Her head snapped towards him; a scowling expression on her face. "That's a lie for a multitude of reasons. One, you and he never converse. Two, if he considers a kiss to be intercourse…then I question his intelligence."

"Ah, so only a mere kiss. Was that so hard to say?"

She rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him. Her rear was still throbbing. They had not seen a bonfire for quite some time; she was unsure how long she would be able to cope with the constant, raw pain down below. She let out another sigh.

"What happened with the woman in the prison cell?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "She, apparently, was able to teleport herself out of here. If my instincts are correct, we should, most likely, see her back at the shrine."

She turned back to him, a grin spreading on her lips. "Let me guess: she rejected your advances."

He scowled at her, pushing himself off the wall. "No." Scarlet laughed; he was too easy to read. He growled in annoyance. " _Actually_ , she knew this form was an illusion. She recognized the ring…"

Her eyes widened. She resisted the urge to grab at her hand. _It would be wise to avoid this woman…_

"I think I saw the flicker of a bonfire, through the far back entrance way to this chamber. Can you walk?"

She nodded, reaching her hands out, signaling him to help her up. He grabbed them, leaning back, keeping her hands held until she was steadied. She reached for her pants; pulling the thick, black cloth back up, and reattaching the leather skirt which protected her thighs. Her fingers ran across the singed material on her bottom cheek.

"Do you think the bonfire will repair this?"

Randull, leaned back, squinting his eyes, grimacing. _No way in hell…_

"Oh, I'm sure. It's just a little tear, that's all." He padded her back, letting her hold onto his arm as she followed behind him, limping with each step. They found themselves stepping out of the large, prison chamber, into a magnificent cavern. Above them, streams of light slipped through cracks in the wall. However, the main light source did not come from above; it came from below.

"The Profaned Flame. Even from here, I feel an ominous malcontent from its false light."

Randull looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I think you've been hanging around that old pyromancer too much."

She rolled her eyes. "You hate _everything_ magic based."

"That is not true. I happen to enjoy a particular spell which increases stamina."

Her nose wrinkled, as she shook her head. Off in the distance, within the cavern wall, was a large statue of a beast; far from any accessible point where a man could have reached it. _What an odd place to put a statue…_

As they descended the curved stairs, adjacent to the cavern wall, she saw the leaning, crumbling ruin of a tower in front of them. The warm glow of a bonfire flickered within. Farther below, she caught a brief glimpse of the profaned flame, still burning in its sacrilege.

They stepped out onto a flattened overlook, where portions of the old road had long fallen into the blackness below. A narrow, collapsing bridge remained, connected to the leaning top of the last remaining tower of the ancient city.

Her ears picked up the distant echo of rocks falling in the distance. Her eyes glanced to the spot where the hideous statue stood. _It was gone_.

She grabbed on Randull's hand, yanking him back. Her limp was still present, but the adrenaline rush gave her the ability to fight through the pain. "Get back!" She took off, dragging him behind her towards the narrow stairs they arrived in on.

Something large landed, causing her to lose her balance, stumbling forward, smacking her open mouth on one of the steps. She spat out a few teeth, then clamored against the cavern wall, pressing her body as flat as it could go. Randull was standing in front of her; his legs spread in a defensive maneuver, his greatsword drawn and ready to strike.

The large form of the animated statue came into view. In its hands was a stone mace of immense size. It spread its stone wings, lifting itself off the ground a good distance, before slamming down, swinging the weapon at them. A few stone steps, in front of them, cracked and broke into pieces. The beast roared in frustrated, attempting to slam its weapon down again; it was unable to get to where they were, without risking open air combat, and plummeting to its death below.

Randull stood, bracing himself for each impact, as not to lose his balance. The creature appeared to be dim; repeating the same, exhausting attack, as though repetition would grant it an eventual victory. Slowly, its precision and stamina dwindled. He waited for one last smashing strike to the ground.

Pushing forward, he rammed his greatsword into its abdomen, continuing off to the side to use his body weight to rip a sizable slice into the stone. The friction on his sword against the solid statue caused shrieking echoes within the large expanse. He twisted, yanking his weapon from the beast, then double backed, keeping out of its line of sight by maintaining a circular distance.

The beast's weapon began to glow with a deep, dark redness. He saw a large ball of flame hit its wings, causing it to stumble forward. It stretched its wings out, howling in pain, as they continued to burn. He lifted his sword over his head, then swung down at its neck region. The sharp blade cut through the stone, slicing its head off in one quick motion. A loud thud resonated throughout the caverns, as the statue returned to its lifeless form.

He glanced up, seeing the glow from Scarlet's hands began to recede. He bent down, snatching the low glowing soul of the gargoyle, then headed towards Scarlet. She was still sprawled across the stone steps, her hand pressed against the lingering burn on her rear. He reached his hand out, offering her a lift, and she took it, giving him a small, bloodied smile.

His mouth fell open. "Holyshit…"

* * *

"Greirat, have you seen Siegward lately?"

Scarlet was kneeling in front of the thief, in his usual spot in the depths of the shrine. He continued to remain perched on the front pads of his feet; always ready to spring forward into a sprint. His head turned slightly, the end of his sack hood flipping to the side.

"Heh…hehe…nnn….nnnnnot since he saved me."

She frowned, biting on her lower lip. It had been quite some time since she had seen her round friend. It was cause for concern, no doubt. She glanced around, thinking of anyone who may have a clue to where he might have wandered off to.

"Thank you Greirat. Stay safe, please." She went to stand up, when one of his bony hands suddenly snatched her wrist.

"Wait." Her eyes locked on his, behind the sack's holes, and she returned to her kneeling position. He leaned in, his breath a little raspy. "He…he said something. A friend…somewhere, by a prison?"

Her stomach churned, and her rear immediately began to ache. She padded his hand on her wrist. "Thank you, my friend, I will try to find him."

He squeezed, then let go, rolling back on the balls of his feet in his crouched position.

"Goodbye…and stay safe."

Scarlet dusted off her pants, turning back, up the stairs towards the main chamber of the shrine. She passed the Firekeeper, who was patiently standing to the side. Her eyes scanned around for Randull; he was next to Ludleth, engaged in a deep conversation.

 _Odd_. She had not seen them together since before her first visit to the outskirts of Izaleth. A light, warm touch snapped her out of her thoughts, and she glanced over to the porcelain doll next to her.

"My lady, it has been some time since you have meditated. My services are for thee, as well."

Scarlet smiled; the Firekeeper was always a kind. Randull's continued mistreatment of her emotions had caused Scarlet to quit seeking her assistance. Although she had no control over his actions, she still, somehow, felt guilty.

She reached out, putting her hand over the small, dainty ones of the girl next to her. "I am truly sorry, I have not meant to avoid you. Yes, please, if it is of no trouble."

Scarlet saw the small, pink lips form a sweet smile, and she knelt in front of the keeper. Her eyes closed, as she felt the invigorating channeling of the souls and her recent experiences rush over her. Her mind cleared, and she focused on an image.

"It is done. Farewell, Ashen One…"

Scarlet rose, thanking the girl, and turning to find Randull; he had disappeared. A shadow faded from the corner of her eye, towards the entrance of the shrine. She took off in a slow jog, up the stairs, and out the large doorway.

The landscape remained the same; tombstones littered the tilted grounds in front of her, worn and long forgotten. She took the path right, leading up a series of stairs. In the distance, she saw the bottom of the tower where the highest point of the shrine resided. There was a gated entrance; something she had never notice before.

Walking towards it, she noticed the ravine to her left, and the lingering white fog which blocked any view of a surface below. Were they in the mountains? Had a portion of the range crumble due to a sudden, violent catastrophe?

A figure jumped out from next to the tower, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a man, clothed in nothing but a few stripes of ragged, dirty cloth. His feet and arms were bare. In his hands, was a thin, long sword, with a slight curve. Scarlet stopped, her mouth slightly open from shock; she had not been expecting another shrine inhabitant.

"Uh…hello." She gave him a soft smile, as he slowly took confident strides towards her. He moved his sword to the side, stretching his arms to a reaching position. She caught a glimpse of his eyes; his pupils were dilated. Her instincts told her to start running.

He dashed forward, swinging fast and fierce. The tip of the sword snagged her armor, slicing through and cutting into her shoulder. The sword caught the strap of her satchel, and he yanked his arms backwards, causing her to come flying in his direction, crashing on her back on the cobblestone below. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, as she neared a concussion from the impact.

Refocusing, she saw the insane man standing over her, his arms raised with his sword, intending to impale her in the chest to the ground. Something glimmered in the low light, and she saw a small dagger embed itself in the man's face. His sword fell to the side, as he fell over, instantly dead.

"It is not proper for a lady to lay on her back in strange places."

A radiant smile spread on her lips, ending in a grimace. She reached her hand behind her head, sucking in air as she winced. Warm, gloved hands came into view, followed by a familiar silver mask. Her smile returned.

"Where have you been?"

"The kitten is still curious, I see."

Her head twisted to the side, seeing the ashes of her perpetrator blowing in the wind. "Who was that?"

He pulled on her shoulders, gently sitting her up, while he looked over the back of her head. A little blood, caused by nothing more than a mere nick from a pebble. It had already began to heal, as the bonfire's proximity, inside, was still near enough.

"A warrior from an age, long past. The weapon he carried is unique."

She reached over, grabbing the hilt of the sword, while snatching the dead man's soul with the other. She blindly held it out for Leonhard to take, as she kept her eyes on the weapon in her left hand. It was light; easy to maneuver. Her small thrusts and movements in the air took little to no effort.

"I am not conditioned enough for close combat, though. Here, it is yours."

His bare hand stopped her movement, as he grabbed around her fingers, reinforcing her grip. She noticed some scarring on the skin. Had he ever taken his gloves off before? She could not remember.

"In insist, my lady." She felt his hand move across the ring under her gloves…and freeze. Her eyes snapped up towards him, and she went to pull it back immediately. He held it firmly, grabbing the cuff and yanking it off with his free hand. The ring from Londor glimmered in the open light. Her breath held still, as tears began to form.

"I see…" He looked up at her, noticing her panicked and saddened faced. He reached out, nicking the bottom of her chin. "Do not be frightened; it was no coincidence that you awoke near your dimwitted companion, my lady."

She stared at their hands; his still holding hers. A tear fell down her cheek. "I assumed you knew..."

His eyes narrowed, his mind trying to grasp the meaning to her comment. He sighed, blinking slow. "And you figured that is why I disappeared? That I knew you were a hollow?" He chuckled. Her naivety was endearing, if anything.

He stood, pulling her up with him. His thumb crossed over the ring. "No, I did not know. However, what you possess is something which is unique…which has been kept hidden."

He let go of her hands, walking past her towards the small area to the right of the tower. "It is, also, forbidden." Her turned to her, shrugging his shoulders. "Or, was forbidden, in times past."

"How so?"

He lifted his mask, tossing it to the ground, as he found a large piece of rubble to perch on. She saw a smirk form on his lips, as his blue eyes glanced up to meet hers.

"The soul of the pygmy is the natural enemy to fire. The Dark Soul…"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Pygmy?"

Leonhard watched as her auburn hair fluttered in the breeze. Although what he was seeing was an illusion, there was little in this world that was not, it seems. Even his own goddess had been one…

A devious grin formed. "Only one question at a time, little kitten. I believe it is my turn." He watched as she smiled at him sweetly, glancing to the side as her hand reached behind her neck, nervously. "Tell me, would you rid yourself of the Dark Sign, if you could?"

She stared out, towards the glistening white peaks of the mountains in the distance. "I…I don't know. Should I?"

"We are all undead, my lady. The extent to that varies. My existence is definitive; there will come a point where I cease to exist in this collapsing world. You, however…suffer from immortality."

"And how does one give up immortality?"

His hand stretched out towards the shrine. "Those who can reach within the darkness…they are able to extract the sigils…to purify your soul."

Her eyes met his with a vibrant, green intensity. "And if I chose not to, what will become of us?"

He stood, slowly walking to her; his fingers running down the length of her tangled hair. His one hand reached for her chin, gently lifting it up. "I am bound to the goddess, and to all which she holds dear. Darkness is not one of them, my lady. It is a duty I cannot shed." He leaned in closer, their lips a mere hair's breadth away. "All I can do is hope."

She felt the warmness of his lips on hers, and his hands quickly maneuver themselves around her torso. Her own hands felt their way up his chest, eventually lacing her fingers into his silky hair. Her mouth returned his affections, as time melted away, and they became lost in-

"Scarlet!"

He broke their kiss off, calmly turning around to swipe his mask off the ground, placing it over his head. The clanking of Randull's armor grew nearer, and Scarlet's flushed form became more red.

"Hey, fancy meeting you two out here." Randull had his visor up, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He caught the glimmer of something on the ground and his eyebrows furrowed.

"An Uchigatana? Where'd you get this?"

Leonhard walked past them, heading down the flight of stairs to the entrance of the shrine. Her eyes followed him; her pulse still racing from what had transpired mere moments before. She glanced to her obnoxious companion, already swinging the weapon around like a child who discovered a new toy.

"You're an asshole."

He laughed, adjusting his grip on the sword, as he took a few more swings. "I know."

Yuria remained behind the crumbling wall, peeking through the cracks. She had intended to lead the girl to the opposite section of the shrine, but discovered that her subject had taken a wrong turn. However, the information she sought had been revealed; an inclination she had from their first meeting, now confirmed. The girl, did in fact, carry the Dark Sign, much like their Lord.

She straightened her posture, heading back towards the upper entrance of the shrine. What she had overheard was much cause for contemplation…

* * *

"Remind me, again, why we're crawling around in rat feces in a dungeon?"

Scarlet trudged through the knee-high slop. The imprisoned giant proved to be too far gone to reason with. The sewage intermixed with the red blood, still gushing from the large corpse in front of them. Occasionally, a rat would pop out from an alcove, and Scarlet would pick it off with one shot.

"Siegward, my bleating friend."

"I'll show you bleating…"

She stopped, turning towards him, her hand on her hip. "Do you even know what that means?"

He stared at her with a blank expression…the dripping of water echoing in the large, cylindrical room they were in. "Yes."

She snorted, turning back towards the dark crevasse she had seen across the room. Noises had emanated from it, as though someone might be hidden inside.

"Greirat had mentioned him seeking out an old friend near the dungeons. We just…we have to find him."

He stabbed another rat, flinging the corpse off to the side with the end greatsword. "What if he is already dead?"

"Then I will look at his corpse and figure out what, or who, killed him."

He stopped, his eyebrows pushed together in confusion. "What are you talking about? How is that even possible?"

She stopped her progression, taking a deep breath in. "I had more memories resurface."

"Just now?"

She rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at him. " _No_. I meant, in my previous life…I, sort of _studied_ corpses."

"You were a grave keeper?" He scratched the back of his neck, pushing forward past a few sinking corpses of rats.

"Randull, do you purposely try to be dense, or is it a natural talent of yours?"

He grinned at her. "I'm dense where it counts. And in some places, _very dense_."

She couldn't help but giggle, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle the onset of laughter. They had just killed a giant; there was no telling what else was left in the recesses of the neglected dungeon. She began to push forward again, through the sludge.

"I did not bury corpses; I cut them open."

"That…is not very comforting to hear."

A loud laugh escaped, and she smacked her hand back over her mouth. A few moments passed, before she settled down enough to continue. "I was a Gorontywyll. It would translate to something akin to 'Regent of the Dark Crown'. From time to time, I examined corpses to help discover how, and when, they died; in some cases, who killed them."

"Seems like your memories are coming back in much more detail."

"Yes. The pain is still there, but manageable. How about you?"

His eyes closed. Visions of a horrible darkness sprung forth. It was all he could do to keep them at bay, anymore. "No…not really."

"Liar." He grinned; she knew him better than any person, _or thing_ , in this world.

Scarlet pulled herself into the small alcove, bending slightly to slowly creep forward. Towards the end was a series of bars, blocking their progression into the next room. Her hands wrapped around the rusty metal, as her eyes scanned the dimly lit room. Something large, and very round, moved in the corner.

"Siegward!"

She saw his onion-shaped helmet lift, and he immediately stumbled forward, grabbing her outstretched hand. "Oh! My friend! How good it is to see your face!"

Randull was behind her, his arms stretched around each side. He grabbed the bars, yanking on them as hard as he could. They refused to budge.

"It is of no use…I was caught by these deranged tenants, and locked in here to waste away." She squeezed his hand. "My liberation requires a key. But the key is outside...Hmm... A riddle for the ages..."

He squeezed her hand in return, then let go, moving back into the corner of his cell. Randull pulled on Scarlet, leading her back out of the alcove.

"You do realize that it will be impossible to find this key."

Her eyes looked up at his; water encasing them. It tore at his heart, and he had to turn his eyes away from her, looking at the corpse of the giant instead. A restrained sniffle came from the female next to him. He closed his eyes, chiding himself internally for being weak.

"Look, let's explore the areas we haven't been to, then circle back. Maybe it fell out of a jailer's pocket…"

He felt her arms reach around him for a hug. He winced.

"When did you get so strong?"

The pressure immediately disappeared around his ribs. "Since you had me lug around your weapon."

They headed out into the sewage below, climbing up and out of it, as they scaled a crumbled bridge, from where the giant had smashed it in frustration. They slowly eased across the broken pathway, making it to the other side with only a few slips. Randull went to head right, down the small path that lead into the large chamber where they had found Karla.

He felt a hand grab his arm. "What about down here?"

His eyes narrowed, as he analyzed the stairs leading up. The corridor gave him an ominous vibe, but he felt that his companion would protest should he refuse. He reached for the hilt of his greatsword, sliding it off his back as he moved up the stairs.

Towards the end, he saw two chests, lying out in plain view. Memories of his first dealings with a Mimic came rushing forward. He looked at Scarlet, but before he could open his mouth-

"I am _not_ wasting my bolts on your paranoia. They're simply wooden boxes."

He sneered at her, as she pushed back him, heading towards the chest on the rest. Kneeling by it, she lifted the lid without a care.

 _Nothing happened._

"I think…we just found his cell key."

His visor snapped up. "You're kidding, right? Let me see." He leaned over her shoulder, taking a good look at the key in her hand. It was ancient, with foreign lettering engraved on the handle.

"Go ahead and get the second chest if you want." She was busy turning the key over in her hand, holding it up to the dim light in the corridor. Randull shrugged, walking over to the chest on the left. Perhaps she was right? He was just being paranoid…

He bent over to open the lid, watching as it flipped open on its own accord. Bloodied, decayed teeth lined the rim, and a large, disgusting tongue flailed in the air. Long, spindly arms and legs began to appear, as the creature lifted itself up to full height. Randull shrieked, falling backwards as large hands grabbed around his waist, lifting him up as though he was a mere feather. Darkness surrounded him, as the smell of pungent rot entered his nostrils. The razor-sharp teeth dug into his abdomen and back, as the creature attempted to tear him into pieces.

A bright light flared, as fire engulfed around the inside of its mouth. He felt himself get thrown, and collide into the wall a good distance away. His eyes were blurry, and he fell back down trying to stand up. His hand reached for his estus flask, tilting it back.

 _Empty._

He lingered on his hands and knees, his head partly tilted up, as he tried to focus on the fight in front of him. Flame erupted from his companion on the right, covering the beast. It squealed and attempted to lunge after her. She dodged, following up with another blast of fire on its back. Its body went rigid, as its limbs twitched, eventually falling to the floor, dead.

His head dropped low, and he fell on the ground, grabbing at his midsection. The teeth had punctured some of his internals in the process. He was bleeding to death on the inside.

Warm hands pulled at his shoulders, rolling him on his back. He winced as he felt her probing at the wounds along his stomach. He heard something pop, and felt a thick liquid run down his throat.

"Swallow." Her fingers rubbed along his throat, trying to help him carry through with the movement. He choked a little, coughing, but began to feel the immediate effects of the estus in his body. His eyes were closed, but he felt her lift his helmet off, allowing his head to lay flat in her lap. Fingers ran soothing lines along the edge of his face, weaving in and out of some of his hair.

His hand grabbed one of hers, and he pulled it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the gloved palm, then letting it go as he lingered in the relaxing moment, allowing his wounds to slowly heal. Healing by estus usually took longer, and would require a few swallows, to accomplish what was almost instantaneous by a bonfire.

"May I ask you a question?"

His lips maintained a grinned, as he hummed in response. She went back to running her fingers along his face and hairline. A hint of lilac graced his senses.

"Would you ever have your dark sigils removed?"

His eyes opened to find green ones gazing over his face. He spotted a few freckles on her nose.

"There was a point in which I had considered it. However, I feel the longer we are on this journey, the less inclined I am to play as a pawn for those aligned to the Flame."

"And you would embrace immortality, while watching everything, and everyone, you hold dear fall into ruin?"

His hand reached up, twisting some of her red hair around his finger, and wrapping it behind her ear. "You still haven't figure out how to clip this back, have you?"

She grinned, letting his head fall to the floor as she stood up, grabbing her bow in the same movement. "Take another swallow of my flask. We're heading to the bonfire next."

* * *

They had made their way towards the entrance to Yhorm's chambers, where he sat upon his throne; his sanity having left him ages before. All that was left was the animated husk of what once was a Lord of Cinder, and reluctant Ruler of the Profaned Capital.

Siegward had traveled with them through the remains of the city, killing off the remaining white-robed witches that still lingered. Their minds were lost, long ago, and they merely tended to what was left, keeping the heretical flame burning. None remembered the reason, or motivations, as to why; they simply did, because they always had, and always would.

They entered the chamber, Siegward stepping forward, his greatsword, Zweihander, swung across his shoulder.

"Yhorm, old friend. I, Siegward of the Knights of Catarina, have come to uphold my promise! Let the sun shine upon this Lord of Cinder."

Yhorm slowly stood; a deep growl echoing off the large stone walls. In his hand was a large, two-handed halberd. Randull unhooked his greatsword off his back, and glanced towards where Scarlet usually stood behind him.

 _She was gone._

The fight was engaged, and he took off after Siegward, his mind in a panic at where Scarlet could be. The large halberd swept across both the men, causing him to fall on his back on the floor, to keep his head attached to his body. Yhorm had cut another notch in his weapon, wielding it with a new set of maneuvers Randull had never seen before.

He pulled himself up, charging after the giant. _Please stay safe, my dear…_

* * *

"Hey Randull, where did-"

She turned, seeing that not only was Siegward gone, but so was Randull. An eerie silence fell, and the flicked flame of the profaned flame behind her died. A lingering, gray spread across the walls.

Ahead of her, she saw the empty throne of where the giant had been, moments before.

 _It was as if everything ceased to be; a world caught between life and death._

A strange, haunting whisper, barely audible, arose from behind her. She headed back in the direction they had come, ascending the steps and crumbling bridge, to the dilapidated tower. Pulling herself up to the second level where the bonfire rested, she saw that it had died.

 _Not even an ember…_

Time passed, although she did not know if it mattered. The whisper became louder, the nearer she got towards the open, ridge of the dungeon. _The dragons…_

The decrepit statue of a part dragon, part man, remained, squatted in a meditating position, towards the shining, white peaks in the distance. The whisper became louder.

" _Braith of Gnells…betrayed…_ "

Her body moved on its own accord, as she found herself sitting in the same position as the statue next to her. Her gaze fell on the distant mountain peaks, focused intensely on the only color left in this stagnant reality. Her head fell forward; the world around her fading.

 _"We welcome you, at last…"_


	13. Chapter 13

I'm in the process of moving; i.e. - I got a new job. In true procrastination, instead of packing for the movers, I'm sitting here writing. Updates have been a little scarce, but I will get back into the groove of a regular schedule soon. However, enjoy the next chapter!

* * *

Randull threw the large sword in a pile in the corner, letting it crash into the other discarded weapons. Storm Ruler was a broken blade, once used to slay giants, but no more. Andre stopped mid swing, looking up with furrowed, bushy eyebrows.

"What's the matter with ye, boy?"

Randull ran a hand through his dark hair, glancing around the room. _She's gone…_ The pit in his stomach deepened and he tossed his breastplate on the ground, kicking it to the side. _Where was she…_

He turned, walking past Andre without a second glance. His eyes narrowed on the arrogant sorcerer, who was preoccupied with the last scroll Scarlet had handed him, just briefly before her disappearance. His lip formed a snarl; _you better finally pull your weight_.

"You…where is she?"

Orbeck glanced up with his eyes, his head still bent over the rare scroll his protégé had brought him. It was from the era of Logan…even penned by the great master, himself. Her buffoon of a companion was, obviously, distraught by her apparent absence.

"My students are free to pursue their own interests in life. I do not burden them with rules or restrictions. To answer your question, have you checked with Leonhard?"

His anger rose. "She disappeared next to me, you arrogant twit! She's _gone_ …"

Orbeck put his pen down, his eyebrow raised inquisitively. "She disappeared? How? What were the circumstances?"

"If I knew _how_ , I wouldn't be asking you."

Orbeck blinked a few times, then tilted his head back down, picking his quill up to make a few more notations. "I am sorry. Unless I know more information, I am afraid I am of little assistance in this matter."

Randull's nails dug into his palm. He felt the prick of broken skin, followed by a small amount of wetness. He was going to murder this useless-

"Randull..."

The soft, feminine voice came from his right. Turning, he saw the black figure of the prisoner from the depths of the dungeons. She motioned him to follow her, guiding him to a small alcove underneath the blacksmith's chamber. She took a seat on the pile of rubble nearby.

"Your companion…she is no longer in this world… _your world_."

His eyes narrowed. "How do you know this?"

"A wretched child of the Abyss, fluent in the dark arts…this was my branding. However, humans are of the Dark; you, I, especially _she_. I can locate those of an alternative path, who have become intertwined, if even for a fleeting moment."

She reached her hand towards him, making a grabbing motion with her fingers. "Give me your hand." He slowly touched her palm, allowing her to slide her fingers across the surface of his. He eyes glazed over, widening, as the warmness from before began to spread over his hand.

Her head twitched. "Gray…lifeless...but not." A vision flashed in her mind, and she recoiled from him. A symbol began to burn on her palm, and she placed her other hand over it, extinguishing it in a small cloud of smoke.

"You're a wicked one, aren't you?" Her eyes met his; her mouth forming a sarcastic smile. His eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. She waved her hand at him dismissively, showing him that no damage had come.

"Fear not. There is no permanent damage." She chuckled, glancing to the right to the nervous thief, who was desperately trying to overhear their conversation. Her eyes snapped back to him, a serious expression on her face. "She lives…and she will reappear. However, it is unknown as to _when_." His shoulders fell, and he head tilted to the side, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "There is no need for despair. Today's lost are conquerors tomorrow. It only demonstrates the making of a champion. Continue on your journey; she will return to you in due time."

* * *

"I thought you said this would be easy!"

Randull ducked as the Sulyvahn's blade sliced through the pillar behind him. He had underestimated his foe: the Pontiff was as powerful as he was during his prime. Taking Karla's advice, he pushed forward into Irithyll, his sights on Anor Londo, where Aldrich hid in his cesspool of filth. Reluctantly, he had to take on one of the few men he despised as an interim companion.

"I said it would be easy for me!" Eygon swung his massive hammer upwards, catching the back leg of the Pontiff. The crazed tyrant shrieked, sprinting forward into the various wooden pews aligned around his personal cathedral. The benches shattered, sending jagged planks flying in the air. Eygon dodged, sprinting to the other side of the room. A crackling light flared, as the Pontiff attempted to eradicate everything he could in his near vicinity.

"Shoot him with a spell!" The tail end of the destructive energy hit Eygon, causing him to fly forward into the wall. Randull jumped out from behind the pillar, landing a thrusting attack in the center of the Sulyvahn. The Pontiff hooked both his weapons around Randull's greatsword, twisting each in the opposite direction, shattering the blade into pieces. A large hand knocked Randull across the room. He rolled over a few times, before landing at Eygon's feet.

"You worthless-"

Another bout of bright light flared, and Eygon grabbed Randull by his collar, throwing him away from the sizzling stream of magic sprawling across the floor. The charm Irina had insisted he carry began to emanate a low glow; the aching in his muscles dissipating with each pulse. While he was no sorcerer, he knew the value of such things, and was no fool as to refuse such a vital gift.

 _Unlike the idiot in front of him_. _No wonder the girl left._

Sulyvahn sprinted towards them; both swords raised, as the power-hungry dictator aimed to sever their heads from their bodies. Eygon waited, his hammer posed at the side, his feet braced. The charm's light brightened, and the end of his weapon began to glow a soft blue. _All he needed was the right timing…_

He thrust upwards, connecting his weapon with the Pontiff's face. A bright light burst forth and holy fire erupted, burning bright blue, blanketing the two. The sparks on Eygon quickly died, reabsorbing into his armor, providing a refreshing rush over his skin. The man before him, began to burn. Both of his deadly swords dropped, as the Pontiff grabbed at his hollowed, undead face, attempting to smother out the burning.

But it continued. Egyon straightened, lifting his large hammer over his shoulder, as he watched the tyrant squeal and shriek in agony at his feet. The body began to dissipate, leaving nothing but the large, blue soul in the ashes. A figure moved past him, leaning down to pick up the soul.

"Touch that and I will pound you into a pulp."

Randull's hand quickly withdrew, and he straightened his posture, pretending to grab at his lower back, faking a wince. "Don't be ridiculous. I would never do such a thing. That soul is yours, fair and square, my friend."

Eygon groaned.

* * *

Scarlet found herself gazing at the blue sky. She had awoken to find herself in the peaks of the mountain range she had been gazing upon, not mere moments before. The grayness that covered the world did not extend to this location. It seemed to exist outside of the confines of space and time.

The sun casted its warm rays over the rocky terrain. She held out some of her hair, noticing the multitudes of brown and red that twisted around each strand. Her black and tattered armor appeared much more faded; the small rips and tears blatantly visible.

She scanned the jagged terrain around her. A sharp inclined led her eyes up towards the butting end of a stone structure. She headed up the small path to her right, seeing the edge of a large castle, of sorts, come into view. The cool wind whipped past her, and she instinctively shivered, rubbing her arms. The ring from Londor caught a glimmer of light, and she removed it; it served no purpose, since none were around to keep hidden from. She stared at her hand, waiting for the dried and cracked skin to form.

 _Nothing changed._

Her eyebrows raised, and she slipped the ring on and off different fingers. Her normal, human form remained.

"Fire and Dark have no relevance in this place, my child."

Her eyes shot up at the figure which appeared next to her. A lion's head stared back at her, with a long, tied up mane of red, fluttering with the wind behind him. His golden armor caused her to squint, holding her hand up in front of her face to block the gleam.

"Who are you?"

A warm chuckle resonated behind the helm. "An old friend. Come." His heavily armored hand motioned her to follow, and she found herself scaling the remainder of the hillside, her eyes occasionally blinded by the glamorous armored man in front of her.

The castle gate they approached was magnificent, leading into an area she could only imagine in her dreams. Tiered steps led them upwards, towards a large bell. Statues of an imposing figure lined the sides; no doubt, a Lord or King.

They continued moving up along an expansive series of stairs, finally reaching the upper level of the vast complex. A robed figure made its way to them. Her eyes narrowed; its head appeared… _long_.

"Welcome…honored guesssst."

She nervously bowed, glancing over to the golden man. He stood stoically, his legs spread and his arms behind his back. His face was completely covered by the ornate helmet.

"I don't understand. How do you know me?"

He motioned her to continue following him. Eventually, they reached a large, open area. Raised platforms lines the long open bridge, of sorts. In the distance, she saw another large bell.

She heard a loud rumble in the distance. Her eyes squinting as she held her hand up, attempting to block out the sun. A small, black figure was in the far distance.

 _It was becoming larger_.

She panicked, stepping back, as the golden man reach out to grab her hand. He padded it. "Have no fear."

The large form of something came barreling towards them. A strong gust of wind blew her hair back, and the immense form of a dragon tilted up, landing on its back feet, causing the giant stone bridge to shake. She gripped onto the golden man, steadying herself.

The dragon lowered its head, and she saw a figure slip off its back. An impressive white mane flowed from behind them; their armor a mix of bronze and gold, intermixed with thick cloth. They neared, and she found herself looking at their feet: they were bare.

 _"It has been forever, yet only a mere instant, Braith."_

She glanced up and froze. It was… _him_.

* * *

Yuria had asked to meet him outside of the shrine, far away from the other inhabitants. It made him nervous. With all the subjects she had spoken to him about previously, she had never requested to keep it completely private. His Dark Sign, his eventual betrayal to the Flame…none of it she had felt the need to keep in complete secrecy.

He found himself standing on top of the shrine, overlooking the crumbling landscape around him. Yuria was behind him, her pitch-black dress fluttering in the wind.

"Thine companion possesses the Dark Sign, does she not?"

He jerked around, facing her; his eyes wide, with shock.

"My Lord has not verified this?"

His eyebrow raised, giving her a questioning look. Yuria chuckled, crossing her arm across her chest to hold the bend of the other's elbow; it was her usual posture.

"A Lord of Hollows has the power to see that which they seek, within others. A mere touch is all it takes."

Her hand waved towards him. "Thine companion is rich, indeed, and bolsters even more sigils than yourself. Tis a threat, should thy see if only from the mere surface."

His eyes narrowed, and his hand readied towards the hilt of the small dagger on his belt. She held her palm out, signaling that she was not finished speaking. "However, the daughter of Zena is anything _but_ a threat. An ally, of the most importance. One which should be kept near."

His mind reeled; it was impossible. He had seen no signs of her hollowing.

"How do you know this?"

A cold chuckle came from behind the dark, faceless helmet she adorned herself with. She turned, heading back towards the steps into the tower. As she spoke, her voice became fainter, until she had disappeared from his sight. He followed her, is anger rising.

"I beseech thee, mention not what has been discussed. For ignorance is bliss, my Lord. The girl's significance will be known, in time."

He sneered. "Are you causing her to disappear?" His tone was aggressive; he was beyond riddles and hidden meanings. Scarlet had finally returned, and her absence had turned his world upside down. It was as though she had been erased from his reality, completely. Although he had two more Lord Souls to show for his recent efforts, he found that even Eygon could barely stand his presence. After they had killed Aldrich, the Knight of Carim had smashed his head against a wall with his hammer.

 _Although, he admitted, that may have had more to do with him sleeping with Irina._

Scarlet had, suddenly, showed up, wandering around in a daze in the shrine. A strange radiance emanated from her, as she clutched a scroll to her chest. When he reached for her, he saw the tracks of tears streaming down her cheeks. She had refused to speak on the subject. Yet, he would frequently catch her, slipping off to be alone and weep.

His temper flared, and he gripped his hands, digging his nails into his palms. He should have been there for her. The inability to reach her was beyond maddening, and her disappearances were beginning to spiral out of control. Now it had been discovered that she was also hollowed. A competitor for his Lordship. All this time, hidden…

"Thine companion is an Unkindled in her own right…an equal for a Lord of Cinder. Her own reality beckons her. The longer the girl remains unbound, the harder it will be for her to return to thee."

Yuria motioned her hands, signaling the end of the subject. "I digress, my Lord, for there are other matters of upmost importance. Thy spouse is ready. The time is ripe to greet her."

Randull turned from her, his anger beginning to boil over from Scarlet's deception. _Why would she hide such a thing?_

"The girl awaits thee, in the hidden Darkmoon chamber of Anor Londo, so thou mayst a true monarch become."

* * *

Her and Randull's relationship had been drastically altered, ever since her disappearance from his world. She had yet to tell him what transpired in _hers_ ; the wound still fresh in her mind. It would be some time before she would be able to revisit those thoughts.

They were in Rosaria's bedchamber, back in the Cathedral. The human "grubs", as Randull called them, were lingering outside the doorway, eagerly clawing to get in. A chill ran up her spine.

"I don't understand, who would kill her and take her soul? Only the fingers know of this place."

They had returned at Randull's insistence. He had wanted to verify that a man named "Creighten the Wanderer" had not been rebirthed. As with Heyzel, the man had shown up multiple times. Unlike Heyzel, he had proven to be, almost, an invincible adversary.

A grub flopped about near them. Her eyes scanned over the poor creature on the floor; its slim covered skin appeared raw and inflamed. Its eyes met hers, and she found herself having to look away, sadness and pity overwhelming her.

"Should we tell Leonhard?"

"Yes, however, he has been gone ever since you last saw him. I simply do not know how to find him."

Something reflected on the bloodied, slim covered bed. Scarlet took a few steps closer, leaning in to get a decent look. A black orb laid, partially covered by some of the sheets. Her hand reached out, seizing the cold, circular stone. A warmness began to radiate. Her eyes glanced up, meeting Randull's.

"Do you think he's okay?" Concern washed over her face. Randull bit the inside of his cheek; he knew what had happened, yet he did not have the heart to tell her.

"You should go wait for him back at the shrine, in case he shows up. I will continue to search for clues here." He put his arm around her shoulder, directing her towards the bonfire in the middle of the room. Placing his hand on the hilt, he watched as her form faded into a flurry of soft flames.

Scarlet turned from the bonfire, looking up at the spot where Leonhard would also stand. She looked down at her hands, realizing what just happened. _He managed to slip the orb out of my hand._

* * *

The sound of swords clanging emanated from above. This was her fifth location, after she had looked in almost every nook of the Cathedral. The small voice in the back of her head told her to return to the shine; that she did not _want_ to know the truth.

But she had to. She had to have answers. She would not accept what her mind had proposed. _It couldn't be…_

"No one will despoil her soul. Certainly, no beast wrapped in human skin!"

She sprinted towards the spiraling elevator to the left, quickly finding herself on the second level. The screeching sound of metal on metal echoed out of the abandoned chamber that overlooked a large, grand corridor into the castle. Her feet carried her to the entrance, and to the scene in front of her.

Randull had his greatsword over his head, readying to lay a final blow to Leonhard.

"Wait!"

He stopped, turning towards her. Leonhard took the opportunity to shove his curved blade into his adversary, dragging it painfully through his internals; relishing in the painful grunts and whimpers as he watched the pathetic "chosen" to crumple to the ground.

"Enough with you, my friend. A knight of the goddess does not die."

He yanked his sword out, grabbing some cloth on the side to wipe the blood off, throwing the bloodied garment on top of Randull in a form of disrespect. His eyes glanced up to the red-head at the door. A wicked smile formed, under the mask.

"I must congratulate you. You are quite the effective distraction to those of meager intellect." He chuckled, turning away from the body on the floor; it was taking longer than normal to disintegrate. His ears picked up the soft steps of the female in the room.

Scarlet stared at Randull's bloodied and mutilated body. His visor was open, and his grey eyes stared up at the ceiling in a dead gaze. Some blood still trickled out of the corners of his mouth. Anger rose, and she snapped her head towards the cocky manipulator in front of her.

"So was everything a simple ruse? For your entertainment and your own _cruel_ goals?"

His hands made a grandiose gesture towards her. "Are you asking if I returned your affections?" Mocking laughter filled the room. "Such novelties are best wasted on the fool-hearted and invalids of this world. I am afraid to inform you, _my lady_ , that your hope was misplaced, as it seems was mine." He glanced at the ring on her hand. _It would have been much easier to dispose of her without the dark sign._

Her heart felt like it had been sliced in two. Randull's form had disintegrated at her feet, leaving his bright, radiant soul in the ashes. Leonhard bent down, content on claiming his reward. _The so-called "champion" would never best him…_

A bolt of lightning erupted in the air, knocking him back and stunning his body. His eyelids painfully stayed open, as he watched her come forward, crouching to reclaim her companion's soul. She pocketed it in her satchel, then returned her gaze on him. Her eyes were hardened; cold and calculating.

 _That spell…only the divine yielded such..._

"The goddess you serve is no longer here to protect her subjects. She fled, her tail between her legs, as she had done time again, in eras long passed."

His eyes stared into hers, trying to find some resemblance of the meek girl he first gazed upon, for what seemed like an eternity ago. It was true; his affections _were_ a ruse. Her companion had been needed to rid himself of the other fingers. Once gone, he was able to freely reclaim the perverted and twisted soul of the beloved handmaiden.

The more he kept her intrigued, the longer he could manipulate that dimwitted unkindled. What he had not expected was _this_. He had underestimated the girl. It was a novice mistake, but a costly one, none the less.

"While your goal was noble, it was erroneous. Your means in obtaining this corrupted soul was ill-conceived. Betrayal is not something I take lately."

Flames spread from her hands, up her arms. He could do nothing but watch; still frozen from her divine spell. Slowly, the fire spread down her legs, branching outwards onto the floor, until it began to coil itself around him. His screams filled the empty space, as his skin was singed to a blackened crisp. His body laid, twitching, yet still alive. She turned from him, tears streaming down her face; she was unable to kill him.

A hand appeared, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Wait outside, I'll take care of this." Randull ushered her towards the entrance, shutting the large, ornate doors behind her. It was his attempt to do what needed to be done, and shelter her from the pain of watching. She felt against the wall, stumbling and falling to the hard, cold floor. Her body began to convulse, as the sobs erupted from her throat.

Horrific screams echoed through the chamber doors, picking up resonance in the ancient castle's loft. She grabbed her hair over her ears, clamping down and pulling. Tears poured, and she screamed in agony, hoping to drown out the sounds from the dying man in the room before her.

 _Perhaps, she deserved death, as well_.

* * *

"What troubles you, girl?"

She was sitting on the crumbling steps on the shrine, staring blankly into the bonfire. Glancing up, she saw the spot Leonhard would always stand in, while watching over her from before. _Had it all been a trick?_ Her eyes slowly found their way to the large, black figure to her right.

"You still speak to me, even though you know what I am?"

A deep, rumbling chuckle resonated behind his horrendous helmet. "We are all the same underneath. Some refuse to accept this; I am no such fool."

She sat there in silence, thinking on what he said. Footsteps from her left neared, and she glanced up, seeing the lovely Sirris heading towards her. The woman stopped, bowing slightly.

"A friend of the Darkmoon, we are in your debt by ridding the world of the Ringfinger."

Scarlet's stomach churned, and she sighed, dropping her head in her palms. A tear fell. Sirris looked up at Eygon, who only shrugged in response. She glanced down on the silent, weeping figure at her feet.

"I take my leave, my lady. Please call upon me, should the occasion ever arise. The Darkmoon shall always answer." She bowed, once again, then turned, heading towards the depths of the shrine.

Eygon stepped closer, lying his massive hammer on the ground. He took a seat next to Scarlet.

"Cheer up, girl. It does no good to live in the past. What's done is done. Whether it was right or wrong, that is mere perception, subject to change depending on who the perceiver is."

She glanced to her right, her eyes wet with tears. She let loose a shaky sigh. "How can someone so disagreeable say the wisest things?"

He grinned behind his helm. "Perhaps being wise makes one disagreeable. Come, you are in need of some cheering up. We never fully explored the tombs you sought in the depths of Izaleth."

She wiped her tears with the back of her hands, as she gave him a weak laugh. "No…I dare say we did not." Her eyebrows furrowed at him, as she remembered her head being severed by Horace. "And how is that going to cheer me up?"

He stood, slowly bending to pick up his heavy hammer. "Not sure, but it would cheer me up."

She laughed, standing up and dusting herself off in the process. Eygon headed towards the bonfire, as she turned to follow him, being stopped by someone's bare hand. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at it, following the arm up.

"Randull?"

He was out of his armor; a rare sight, even during his various _liaisons_ with the female tenants of his world.

"I need to speak with you." His voice had some urgency with it, and he pulled on her hand, signaling to Eygon, who let out an annoyed sigh, letting his heavy hammer fall to the floor. He dragged her out of the shrine, taking a right and up the stairs where she had been attacked by the crazed, half-naked man.

Satisfied he was away from eavesdroppers, he stopped, turning around towards her; his hand still latched onto hers. She went to pull it back, and he held it even firmer. His other hand slid under her glove, and she began to panic.

"Stop it! Let me go! Don't!" Her fist slammed against his chest, causing him to wince slightly, but doing nothing to stop him from his current task. He ripped the glove off, holding her hand up between their faces; the ring in plain sight. Her eye twitch, as she felt an invasive pain in her mind. The image of the Dark Sign flashed.

"You thought you could hide this from me?" His cold eyes narrowed on hers. His anger fumed. Did she think this was a game?

She pushed against him, her eyes wide with terror. "Please, oh god, please don't kill me. I'm not Orbeck. I don't want it…" The last words came out choked, and she weakly tried pulling herself out of his grasp.

His eyes widened, and he let go of her hand, causing her to stumble backwards, collapsing against the wall. She struggled to gain her footing, but soon took off in a full sprint back towards the shrine.

He watched, still shocked from what she had said. _She hid it because she was terrified of him._

* * *

"Your new outfit looks ridiculous, girl."

Scarlet frowned, looking down at the white tunic, with over sized sleeves. Underneath she had put on a thin pair of black leggings, tucked into knee-high black boots. Her hair remained held back with a clasp. She wiped some sweat off her forehead with one of the sleeves. It was made of a thin, cloth material, and quickly soaked up any moisture.

"My attire may look haphazard, but I assure you, it is much cooler than whatever _that_ is." She waved her hands up and down at him. He laughed in response.

They continued through the sweltering corridors of the old ruins of Izaleth. This time, they had avoided Horace, deciding to take the far set of stone stairs, leading into the side of a cliff. Large arrows flew past them, causing the ground to shake. Scarlet almost met her death on more than one occasion simply crossing between the two entrances. She pressed herself up against the stone wall, peering around the edge; a giant ballista was aimed at them.

Her eyes scanned the shallow expanse of water before her. A large carcass was curled up near the middle. It was some, sort of, hellish worm. A few large arrows were sticking out of its back.

Eygon motioned her to follow, and they found their way to a new bonfire, within the beginning of the old ruins. She knelt before it, watching the spark jump from her hand, igniting the bonfire into a glorious flame. The immediate relaxing effects of the bonfire washed over her.

He stood his large hammer up against the wall, and took a seat on some rubble in the corner. His hands grasped his helmet, lifting it off. Sweat poured down his face, and he took off a glove, wiping it off with the back of his hand. His faze fell upon the female in front of the fire. She was sitting on the floor with her legs spread out, leaning back on her right hand. Her left was fanning her face in an attempt to cool down. He laughed.

"There is no cooling off in hell, girl."

She chuckled, looking back at him with a sweet grin. Her mind was preoccupied with digesting what had happened recently. Randull discovering her true form; Leonhard's betrayal… Her thoughts returned to Archdragon Peak. She smiled.

 _Soon you will be with us here, my friend_.

It was the last remnants of her old life, and where she _truly_ belonged. Her world was different than Randull's; the dragons had waited out the enduring cycles, only to reemerge at the end. It was peaceful…how the world _should_ be. The stories of a lingering grayness and oppressive dragon rulers were lies created by Lord Gwyn himself, to justify his thirst for power.

A sadness bubbled from below. She would be leaving Randull soon. Her world beckoned her; the curse of her betrayal nearing its end. Her hollowness _here_ was only bound to his world. After his discovery of it, she found herself incapable of telling him what had transpired during her absence; what she had _learned_.

 _Perhaps, it was best he never know…_

"After my unfortunate travels with your companion, I now find myself unsettled by lingering silence. What is on your mind, girl?"

She looked back up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. "I heard that your brief comradery ended with his skull splattered against a wall."

Eygon chuckled, leaning back against the stone walls of the small room they were in. "That was, probably, the most enjoyable part of our whole journey."

"How did you find out?"

His eyes snapped to the entrance on the other side of the room. A strange cackle resonated from the depths below. "Irina told me. When she said it was Hawkwood, I knew."

Scarlet raised an eyebrow. "How?"

He glanced back to her, a sly grin forming on his lips. "Because he is not one to fancy women." He laughed, closing his eyes. "Besides, your companion is the only one who seems obsessed with the notion."

She resumed fanning herself. "That he is. I'll need to ask Karla if she has buckled under the pressure." She laughed, already knowing the answer.

Eygon chuckled as well. The witch was everything that Irina wasn't. Crass, curt, and completely independent. It was probably why he found himself attracted to her. He looked at the girl on the floor before him. She was attractive, as well, but far too naïve. Her allegiance to that waste of skin was almost unbearable to witness. Still, she was decent company. A breath of fresh air from the usual bucket of morons that he came across.

He stood, grabbing his hammer and sliding his helmet back on. "Well, girl, are we going to do this, or what?"

She grinned, standing up, brushing the dirt off her backside. She swung her crossbow over her shoulder and headed towards the opposite entrance, following a long series of steps down. They stepped out into a clearing; a plethora of stone pillars on all sides. The ceilings were short, and the feeling she had when she first awoke in this world lingered on the edge of her nerves.

Something moved, and she slowly crept around a pillar.

 _Nothing._

She stood, turning to head back towards Eygon. Her face collided into something bony, and she jumped back. A massive, bird-like demon was in front of her. It spread its arms, screeching, as its hands began to form a large ball of fire in between them.

Her eyes glanced towards Eygon's form in the distance. One of the goat-men had their legs wrapped around his shoulders. His helmet had been thrown off, and they were gouging his eyes out.

Flames engulfed her.

* * *

Her skin _itched_. Her time in his world was nearing its end. She walked up and down the shrine, looking in every nook and cranny for Randull. He was _gone_.

Panic set in, as the calling to her world became stronger. She began asking the local denizens, receiving the same shrug of shoulders, or shake of their heads. Her feet flew up the stairs; her sight set on the bonfire. A pretentious voice stopped her.

"Dearest companion to our Lord, I sense thy's desperation. You seek that which is not bound to thee."

Scarlet closed her eyes in irritation, her face scrunched up in a look of disgust. At least, in _her_ world, there was no Yuria. That thought, in itself, was reason enough for celebration.

She straightened her expression, turning to face the ominously clothed woman of Londor.

"How astute. However, binding is not something I seek, for I know the consequences of such a folly."

Yuria clicked her tongue, nodding slightly. "Then thou is wise, indeed. Tis why I chose our Lord's spouse. However, I fear of a slight oversight. The girl…she is _unwilling_."

Scarlet's eyes widened, and her pulse sped up. _Not again_. Her eyes narrowed on Yuria.

"Where is he?"

The Londor woman shook her head. "Tis a place of reverence of ritual. The Darkmoon shines strong, even from ages past." The tall, dark figure began to move towards her usual resting place. "Anor Londo is what thy seeks. Time is of the essence, daughter of Zena."

* * *

She kept running as fast as she could; her calves were on fire. Yuria was leading him down a deceptive path. It would only keep the cycle repeating, albeit in darkness. Not only that, but the manipulative bitch had forced the pairing. Anri was not willing; the binding would be cursed. The true dragons no longer belonged to his world. There would be no means to fix it.

 _She could not allow Randull to suffer such a fate._

She rounded the corner of the narrow pathway along a long expanse which bordered around the upper, outer loft of the large castle. She had asked Greirat for the quickest way to the hidden chamber. He knew; for it was his livelihood to know where such secrets lay.

The illusionary wall had been shattered, and she sprinted down the steps, almost tripping a few times. Statues lined the long, regal corridor, and she made out the distant shape of a person in the large chamber at the end. Her heart skipped; it was Randull.

Sprinting even faster, she burst into the room. The sword was above his head, as Anri laid out before him; incapacitated, awaiting her imminent death at the hand of the Lord of Hollows.

"Wait!" She ran to him, her arms outstretched and aimed for his hands, hoping to hold back his downward thrust. In the blink of an eye, he had quickly turned towards her, plunging the sword through her heart. His arm wrapped around her back, as he pushed the sword in deeper.

Blood began to dribble out of the sides of her mouth, and her knees buckled. He slowly laid her on the stone steps. Her gasps and whimpers echoed off the walls, and her eyes focused on the sword, still embedded in her chest.

"I…I am sorry. I cannot imagine a world without you." Her eyes glanced up to his; pain and confusion written all over them. He ran a hand over the side of her face brushing away some of her sweat soaked hair.

"In my selfishness, I have bound you to me." He held her close, pulling on the sword to remove it from her chest. She convulsed, releasing a mangled sob as her hands pressed against his breastplate; her fingers were contorted in pain, twitching.

He looked over her dying form, seeing the black mist began to pour out of her open wound. _"For she possesses even more then thee. A queen, to rule as a Lord in her own right. Her time left in our world is nearing its end."_

Her blood continued to pour down the steps, and he held her tighter, allowing his body to absorb her essence, intermixing it with his and slowly seeping back into hers. He kissed her forehead; there was nothing he could do except beg her for forgiveness.


	14. Chapter 14

She knelt in front of the bonfire, holding the charred cover of a pyromancy tome in her arms. A good chunk of time had passed since her impromptu _wedding_ , and she had done her best to avoid him.

 _Her spouse._

She frowned, as the vision of the ruins slowly changed to that of the shrine. She was still struggling to come to terms with what had happened. His motivations were that alone; selfish. How could she have been so blind and naïve to his true nature? Ornstein had warned her of the deceitfulness of others. Her eyes clinched shut, as she resisted the urge to shed a tear.

Her sights fell on the old pyromancer, as her legs carried her down the stone steps. Orbeck had disappeared some time ago, after she had bestowed upon him a special scroll. The name "Logan" had fallen from his mouth a few times, and she could only imagine that he ran off in search of even more knowledge.

"Ah, my child, it has been some time. What brings you to this old man, hmm?"

The tome was one she pulled off the dead, and mummified, remains of a human, deep within the ruins of Izaleth. Her _binding_ with Randull had a few benefits; her abilities had increase, almost tenfold. She had easily burned her way through the remaining denizens of the ruins, picking up lost and ancient items along the way.

"I regret to say, I cannot accept this. Quelana's pyromancies are for witches, and must be learned from a mistress. I am afraid I cannot read this, my child…"

She sighed, standing up and heading across the room, towards Karla. Something glimmered out of the corner of her eye, and she looked up at the small, raised pathway above her. Sirris was walking towards Andre, unlatching the holster for her sword.

Gray eyes connected with hers.

She picked up her pace, ducking underneath the small bridge. Karla looked at her with questioning eyes. Scarlet held out the tome, motioning for her to take it. She glanced back to where she had been standing, assuring that he had not descended the stairs after her.

"Here, take this. I need it translated. I'll be back." She was whispering.

"Wha-"

She put her finger over her mouth, making a hushed noise, then slowly crept out, heading towards the opposite stairs up. Her head popped up, taking a current count of the figures next to Andre.

 _Shit_.

A hand grabbed her arm. She rolled her eyes, turning her head in the opposite direction.

"I need to talk to you."

 _I can't imagine what about…_

She jerked her arm, freeing it from his grasp. "Maybe later. I'm busy." She began to head towards the stairs, and he grabbed her arm, again. Her temper flared, and she spun around, docking her left arm back, and swinging forward. Her fist connected with his jaw, and he fell back a few feet, tumbling to the ground.

Karla snickered.

Scarlet shook her hand a few times; it hurt, but it was well worth it. She twirled on her heels, heading to the upper level, and eventually out of the shrine. She needed to get away from all this. Her heart ached. The last family she still had was taken away; forcibly stripped from her. And for what? To be purged into Darkness for an eternity with an idiot?

"My lady!"

 _Not her…_

Scarlet stopped, her arms crossed over her chest. She waited until the footsteps neared before speaking.

"What do you want." She said it as more of an irritated statement, than a question.

Sirris frowned; she knew her past transgressions with the champion would end dishonorably. "I wanted to speak with you, regarding your companion."

Scarlet snorted, and began walking down the hillside. "By all means, continue fucking _my husband_ at your leisure. I sure don't care." She waived her hand dismissively, not even turning around once to acknowledge the Darkmoon knight.

Sirris watched as she continued down the pathway, towards the ancient arena. Only one Lord of Cinder remained, and her personal vow to her grandmother had been fulfilled. Her purpose in this world had come to an end; she had only wished to warn the girl of the danger of what her spouse had become.

 _A hollow…in league to overthrow the Flame._

Randull's and her intimacy had died long before. He, however, had felt that she was owed the truth. Her eyes closed.

 _His hands…his face…_

She opened them, her resolve returning. If the girl was unapproachable, then it was her own foolish fate to suffer. Sirris turned back towards the shrine, heading towards the opposite side up the hill, to the grave of her grandfather.

* * *

"I am not wearing the armor of your dead girlfriend."

Randull wanted to kill her, except it wasn't possible anymore. Not only would killing her inadvertently kill himself, but their immortality would keep bringing them back, regardless. She had been nothing but bitter and disagreeable since the binding. Had he known that she would turn into this, he would have plunged the sword into Anri instead.

"Look, I only slept with her a handful of times, and that was before…well…you know."

She crossed her arms over her chest. Her armor had fallen apart, and all she had covering her torso was her breast band. Her trousers were littered with patches, and her boots had been tossed into Andre's forge. _"The anvil can only perform so many miracles, girl."_

Randull's focus fell on the hardened bumps, poking out just above her arms. His loins ached, and the cramped space in his pants became even _more_ cramped. He didn't know how long he could keep this up…

She snapped her fingers up towards her head. "Hello?" She rolled her eyes, and moved her hand horizontally, signifying the pile of armor in the corner. "I don't care, just pick something. If you want me promenading around in her clothes, so be it."

He scanned over their inventory. _If it were me, I'd have you naked and wanting…_

"Don't hold your breath for that."

His head snapped towards her, an incredulous look on his face. "Did you, just… _read my thoughts?_ "

Hey eyebrows furrowed. "No. You said that out loud." An expression of doubt crossed her face. "Didn't you?"

He shook his head slowly, stepping towards her.

 _This is ridiculous. Not only did the asshole rip me away from the only people I knew, but now I'm being forced to hear his thoughts._

He stopped, less than a step away from her. His neck titled to the side. "What people?"

Her eyes widened, and she instinctively took a step backwards. He leaned forward, snatching her arm. "What…people…" His gray eyes burned into hers.

 _The dragons lived. You have given me nothing but a nightmare in return. My dearest friends are gone, the cord severed._

"The dragons were oppressive, forcing everything to remain in a lingering gray."

Her eyes narrowed on him, and she grabbed his hand, forcing it off her arm. "Do not speak of which you know nothing, _Lord_."

His fist hit the stone wall, making a sizable hole. Scarlet stood, unfazed, staring back at him with the same fury and intensity.

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I bound you because I love you. If I had known what was in your world, I would have let you go. The pain of seeing you suffer far exceeds the pain of a pathetic existence without you."

Her demeanor softened, and she found herself reaching out, grasping his shoulder.

His eyes opened, looking at her with a hurt expression. "I think, the worst thing I discovered, was your inherent fear of me. Of all the people in this fucked up world, you were the last one I _ever_ wanted to feel that way."

He moved his hand from the wall, straightening his posture. Hers fell from his shoulder, and he walked around her, heading towards the central portion of the shrine. She stood there, in silence, watching as he disappeared into the upper levels.

* * *

She sighed. They were back at the high wall which surrounded Lothric. The last Lord's Soul belonged to the Prince, himself. The problem was that he was located at the highest point. They were struggling to figure out how to actually get _into_ the castle itself; low or high point.

The leather doublet dug into her armpits. The fit was terrible, however, in her pride she had refused to voice her complaints. She had purchased it from Patches, of all people. He smirked the entire time, cackling to himself smugly as she shamefully placed a vibrant soul of a knight into his greedy hands.

Things had been awkward between them. The typical casual and light-hearted conversations had completely ceased. They were sitting in front of the bonfire in the room where she had first died fighting the mutated and deranged Boreal Knight. She glanced over at the weapons against the wall, picking up a trace of red splattered across them. She frowned.

"What troubles you, my love?"

She slowly turned to him, her eyebrows scrunched together. "You calling me that, for one."

He threw some dead leaves into the fire. "Get used to it."

She slowly released a deep breath, placing her palm on her head. She had foregone the purchase of a helmet or head wrap. Her recent expeditions into the ruins of Izaleth had broken her of the habit. Also, she found that the greater field of vision far outweighed any minimal amount of protection headgear provided.

"What must I do to regain your trust?"

She frowned, glancing off to the side. "Honestly, I think that bridge was burned…multiple times. If not for the fact that you're a womanizing liar, but that you're _dreadfully_ needy, as well."

He snapped his visor open, giving her an irritated look. "Dreadfully needy? Where the hell did you come up with that?"

Her eyes narrowed on him. "You bloody stabbed me in the heart because you were terrified of being alone."

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "Is it so hard to believe that I love you?"

She lowered her head, slinking down a bit. The fire burned brightly, and her eyes gazed at the flickering flames. "Yes."

He leaned forward. "And why is that?"

Her eyes met his briefly, a watery sheen covering them. She quickly glanced to the side, looking out through the doors which lead to the broken edge of the bridge that had once connected the castle to the rest of the land. "You rejected me."

He took his helmet off, running his hand over his face. "I didn't _reject_ you, Scarlet. I wish you would quit thinking that, because it's not true. I had an established relationship with the Firekeeper at that time."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. He sneered in response. "FINE. She was attractive, and more importantly, easy, okay? Happy now?"

She watched as he harshly threw some more dead bits of vine into the bonfire. "I respected you. You were my equal, not some sort of conquest or quick means to sate primitive urges."

She smirked, tilting her head to the side. "That is quite noble of you, my lord."

His nose scrunched in disgust. "I wish you'd quit calling me that. Reminds me of Yuria."

Her smirk developed into a devious grin. "Then what is it you wish to be called?"

His eyes glanced around, a pained expression on his face. He did not know how much longer he would be able to take her coldness towards him. He wanted it to simply go back to how it had been. She was his closest confidant…his best friend.

She closed her eyes, sighing softly. She could tell that he was struggling with the choice he had forced on her…on both of them. _I cannot hold such discretions against him, for he knew no better._

Her eyes opened to find him staring at her with an intense gaze. She chuckled.

"I am still not used to the new aspects of our _relationship_ , fy nghariad."

She blinked, leaning forward and pushing herself on her feet. Her hand held her back as she straightened her spine, hearing a few pops in the process. She looked down at the other, gripped around her crossbow.

 _The ring_.

"I have been thinking the same. It is no longer needed, as we have nothing to hide anymore."

Her thumb lightly brushed over the band. In her world, such things were not needed. Now she was hollowed, once again. She slipped the ring off, watching as her ivory skin began to shrivel and turn brown. Her heart ached.

She felt a bony arm wrap around her shoulders from behind. Glancing to the side, she saw the same, shriveled up skin. It slid around and he stepped in front of her; a bony hand placing itself on the remains of her face. A hollowed face with no eyes came into view.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer as she laid the side of her undead face on his breastplate. If she had eyes, she would have cried.

* * *

"Put your ring back on."

Her expressionless face turned towards him. He fumbled around in his pack, trying to locate his.

"I can't stand this. I honestly have no idea if you're being sarcastic or serious. _It's_ _driving me insane_."

She laughed, waiving her hand at him in a dismissive motion. "Your idiosyncrasies are quite amusing, fy nghariad."

"What does that mean?"

She slipped her ring back on, watching in fascination as her ivory skin began to reappear. She ran her hand across the surface, scratching the skin with her nails. Small, red lines appeared.

"It's a term of endearment." Her focus was on the ladder above the murdered corpse of the high priestess. They had managed to bring down her killer; a remnant of the Pontiff and his far-reaching power. The crumpled form of the Dancer was slumped against a wall; ice still covering her body, from an enchantment that had refused to die along with its host.

He found his ring, hastily placing it on his finger and sighing in relief. _Perhaps she is right; I am vain._

"Of course I am. I am _your wife_ , after all. Who else would know you better?"

He turned towards her, an unamused look on his face. She had a wide smile on hers; the corners of her eyes crinkling. He couldn't help but to grin.

"A term of endearment, hmm? Is it something akin to 'jackass' or 'idiot'?" His grin took on a sarcastic expression, and he crossed his arms in front of him.

She put her hands behind her back, and rocked forward on her toes, then back on her heels. "Au contraire, _my darling_." She flashed him a sweet smile, then turned, walking towards the empty chair of the high priestess.

" _My darling_?" A large smile formed, and he watched her as she moved up the steps, her hips swaying a little. His privates throbbed, and he shook his head, trying to divert his thoughts.

Scarlet noticed a small latch, and she lifted her crossbow, firing a bolt at it. The bottom portion of the ladder fell, shattering the ornate, wooden chair.

"That…doesn't seem like the best place to sit, in all honesty."

Randull stepped up, sheathing his sword and hooking his shield to the back. Scarlet had insisted he take the Uchigatana, as she felt little need for fighting in close combat. The blade was light and deadly; he found himself quickly cutting down their foes at an even faster pace than with his greatsword. He put his foot on the ladder, grabbing onto the metal bars, hauling himself up.

Scarlet wasn't far behind, and she saw his hand appear in her field of vision. She snatched it, a smile spreading on her face. _Just like old times…_

* * *

"Why did we come this way, again?"

They were huddled around a make shift fire, on top of a leaning, dilapidated stone pathway. Its arched design had crumbled at various points, giving out after years of neglect. The smell of the poisoned swamp below made her stomach churn. It was the old, abandoned gardens of the old King that once ruled. She leaned in closer to the fire.

"I'll admit, it was a bad decision. However, I did, and still do, hear distant crying."

Randull narrowed his eyes. "I think you're losing your mind. I'll need to speak to Yuria, and see if I'm allowed to trade-in wives."

She snorted. "If you think Anri is better, then be my guest. Because, obviously, you're an idiot, and I refuse to birth stupid children."

He leaned closer to her. "That would require a few miracles, my dear. One: you are hollowed, and most likely, infertile, but that remains open for debate. Secondly: intercourse would be required."

Her head sharply turned towards him, her eyes furious. "And what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? It would take a miracle for you to sleep with me?"

He reached out, gently grabbing the bottom of her chin. "Au contraire, _fy nghariad_ , it would take one for you to sleep with _me_."

Her cheeks reddened, and she jerked her head out of his grasp, turning to look in the opposite direction. Randull glanced around their surroundings. _This isn't the best place for it._

Her head slowly tuned back towards him, her eyebrow raised. "The best place for what?"

He pushed himself off the ground, standing up, and turning to offer her a hand. "I just heard that crying, up ahead. Let's go."

She frowned. "Oh, so _now_ it's real. Nice to know."

He rolled his eyes, hauling her up to her feet. They walked along the broken, elevated path, towards the end. He stepped to the edge, beginning his descend onto the murky ground below. A hand snatched his arm, pulling him back up. He followed her gaze, staring at a clump of low hanging branches in the distance.

"What?"

 _He saw it_. It was one of _them_ , from his first expeditions along Lothric's high wall.

"Do you still have those fire bolts?"

It swung a massive, black amorphous head towards them; the distant trails of glowing red eyes focused in their direction. Scarlet pulled Randull down, getting as low to the stone floor as possible. Eventually, the thing lost interest, turning back to slowly stumble along its original path.

"No, Siegward was Greirat's main supplier, and he hasn't been back to the shrine since I disappeared. I've been meaning to go find him."

Randull grimaced. He had never told her about what he stumbled upon in the Profaned Capital, during the numerous times he went back to search for her. He found Siegward in the same position as when he had left after defeating Yhorm, except, inside his armor was his corpse. Siegward's promise had been kept, and his purpose fulfilled.

He glanced over at her; her eyes were following the man-of-pus, memorizing its preferred movements and path. She glanced back at him. He scrambled his thoughts, focusing on a slug crawling through the poisonous muck below. She took off her glove, placing her hand on the side of his face. She closed her eyes.

He felt a small twinge behind his eye, and saw a few flashes of a blackened ring.

"You have a kind heart. I feared as much, yet found myself incapable of seeking the truth."

He looked at her, confusion on his face. She smiled, running a thumb along the edge of his cheekbone.

"My presence in your world was a mere fluke. An adverse effect from a curse, where the intent was to keep me in that tomb, forever lost to time. Yet…it appears as though fate had different plans."

His eyes narrowed. "Would you have left without telling me?"

She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. She stood, loading a bolt in her crossbow. It cackled with a bright, yellow light. The man-of-pus came into sight, and she fired, watching as a grandiose burst of lightning spread over its gluttonous mass. It squealed in pain.

She jumped off the stone bridge, rolling forward as her feet hit the ground, sprinting towards the creature. Her hands burst into flames and she focused as a large ball of fire sprang from between the empty space. The creature caught alight, wavering around frantically as it began to burn away.

A few moments later, Randull caught up, breathing heavily behind her. She was sifting through the ashes of the beast, searching for any remnant of its soul. He saw a flash of lightning run up her arm, and her opposite hand followed along its length, attempting to quell the after effects of her spell.

Her foot felt something hard, and she crouched down, sifting through the ashes. A dark, purplish soul emerged. She stood, walking to Randull and snatching his hand, shattering the soul when she crushed it in his palm. Some of her hair had become loose, and the swirling air current from the dissipating soul caused it to twirl around her. Her green eyes met his.

"I was going to take you with me."

* * *

The crying was incessant. It was a child's, and Scarlet felt a tug on her heart, as the wailing became louder. A crumbling set of stairs led down towards an ornate door. A royal insignia was engraved on the stone surrounding the entrance.

"I am afraid of what we'll find here." Her eyes had a concerned look. Something ate at her inside, and she found herself unable to move forward, dread rooting her in place.

 _"Men have always possessed a natural fascination. Some go as far as to change their bodies; the highest form of adulation. However, there are those who become consumed, no longer holding the dragons as revered. No, my friend, they seek to rule over their shepherds, and in their obsession, lose themselves._ "

A touch on her shoulder snapped her out of her thoughts. Randull was looking at her with a concerned expression. He squeezed her shoulder, proceeding to move forward towards the doors. She raised her crossbow, taking a position behind his form.

The doors creaked open, and a poorly lit chamber appeared before them. A few large pillars had crumbled into disarray, leaving massive piles of rubble on the floor. Her eyes fell on a figure in the middle.

Randull straightened, looking at the large, dragon-like figure, hunched over something in the room. He heard the cries of a child, and the low mumble of a distorted voice, attempting to soothe it. The figure raised its head, turning towards them.

An eyeless, dragon's head stared at him. Grotesque, gray skin covered its body; there were no scales. It held its left arm to its body, slightly bent, as if something was being held.

"Ahh, you ignorant slaves. Finally taken notice, have you? Of the power of my beloved Ocelotte, child of dragons."

Scarlet stepped forward. Her body encased in a low, orange haze. He could feel the fury burning off her.

"Blasphemous traitor! The child is not _yours…_ You have cursed yourself and your kingdom, and yet, that which you desperately crave still eludes your grasp."

The false dragon lowered his head, looking on the empty space it cradled. He slowly shook his massive head, looking back up in their direction.

"Well, I will not give him up. For he is all that I have." His elongated, body arm picked up a large staff near him on the floor. His enlarged snout curled upwards, and a massive collection of teeth flashed. The consumed king roared.

Randull moved forward, his shield raised, as the massive beast charged towards them. Lightning filled up the room, splitting open the slimy skin of the king. Randull strode forward, slicing into the abdomen, and using his body momentum to dig deeper, hoping to penetrate a vital organ. He felt something impact his side, sending him colliding into a pillar.

"Ahh, dear little Ocelotte. Where have you gone? Are you hiding from me?"

The king began to frantically run around the room; the wails of a child not far ahead. It appeared that _it_ was attempting to flee. Scarlet let a few bolts fly, each impaling the beast along his spine. He roared in frustration.

"You were born a child of dragons, what could you possibly fear?"

Randull held his shield up, as a massive wave of blue energy emanated from the king. He glanced towards Scarlet, seeing that she had taken cover behind some rubble.

"What the fuck is wrong with this thing!"

She leaned over the stone, firing another bolt into king, directing him away from the small, hybrid child running in terror. His short legs would fail him, and he'd stumble forward, smacking his tiny snout on the stone. A cry would tear from his throat, as he'd scramble back to his feet.

"He's insane!" She fired another bolt. "And language!"

Her last bolt impaled the center of his eyeless socket, burying deep. The king stopped, roaring in pain. A blue, electric haze formed around his skin. The child tripped again, signaling its location. The king quickly snatched the toddler up.

Scarlet jumped over the rubble, sprinting towards the insane beast. "Randull! Stop him!"

Randull hurried after her, confused. He saw nothing but a madman…well, _dragon_ , staring off into space. He lifted his sword, coming in fast to thrust into their chest.

"Ocelotte!" He screamed the child's name, followed by sickening slop noises. Scarlet screamed, firing another bolt into the king's mouth. Randull's sword found the sweet spot between the large ribs, driving it straight into the blackened heart. A dark ooze began to gush out, and he yanked the sword back, stumbling out of the way as the massive body crashed to the ground, rigorously twitching as its life force spilled out on the floor.

Randull let loose a breath, leaning over to place his hands on his knees, as he tried to calm his nerves down. His eyes glanced the room, finding Scarlet's figure on the ground. She was on her knees, rocking back and forth, holding something in her arms.

 _Oh shit…_

He jogged over, tossing his sword to his side, and kneeling beside her. She was cradling space, much like the insane dragon _thing_ had been. He glanced at her face; her eyes were glazed over, tears streaming down, as sobs escaped her throat.

He took his glove off, placing it on her cheek, as she had done with him earlier. The Dark Sign flashed, and he blinked, looking between them.

A half-eaten corpse of a child was lying in her arms.

* * *

She stared out over the darkened ravine, where she had awoken in a different time…a different reality. This one, the flame had extinguished. It was a world of Darkness.

"Is this what we're striving for?" She raised an eyebrow to Randull. He held a torch in his left hand, in an attempt to illuminate their path. He glanced at her.

"We?"

"Yes, _we_. It's what happens when you shove swords through unsuspecting victims. You become bound as one." She deadpanned.

He chuckled, while looking around at their surroundings. "You have a point, though. This is quite drab looking. What would I exactly be Lord over?"

"I am curious to why this was hidden behind Oceiros' chambers. Perhaps it is a warning? Or perhaps its champion never came to ignite the flame…"

He was busying himself with descending down the ridge edge. "So this would not be a true Darkness, or, not in the extent that _we_ are attempting."

She put her hand on her hip. "To usurp the Lords of Flame, and the ruminations of their ignorant followers? Perhaps… Although, Kaathe would be delighted to hear such talk."

His feet hit the ground, and he snapped his head back up to her. "How do you know that name?" He placed his hand on his temple. "And…why is that familiar to me…"

She sat on the ground, scooting to the edge and throwing her leg over. Her hands felt for rigid surfaces to hang onto, as she eased herself down. "The primordial serpents are devious in nature. They are as much to blame for the current dying land, as they were for countless others before it."

She felt the hard ground with her toe, and allowed her body to fall the remaining distance. She wiped her hands back and forth a few times, clearing her palms of small stones and dirt.

"In my reality, we rid ourselves of the problem. They were once great dragons, but fell. Broken in body and mind, they withered away in the dark voids of the land, changing into the master manipulators that they are today. The age of Fire and Dark ended with their destruction, followed by a peaceful return to nature."

She looked up at him. "It was not without cost, though. I was betrayed. My alliance with the dragons was used as a means to convict me of a crime I had nothing to do with. Hollowness had begun to show among the citizens. My sister was the first."

His eyebrow raised. "And _this_ is what you were going to drag me to?"

She smiled. "I admit, it would have been remote and in the mountains." She glanced around, frowning. "However, at least it had more _color_."

They continued through the ravine, noticing the strange similarities to this reality. The torch light cut through the unending darkness. It did not feel ominous or threatening to her. It felt more isolating…

"I feel saddened. Why is that?"

"The Abyss is a lonely place, my love."

She glanced at him. "You speak as though it is from experience."

He met her gaze, a sadness behind his eyes. "It is…"

They came to the ancient arena, finding Gundyr kneeling in the same position. Something was off, and he immediately signaled for Scarlet to remain where she was. "Stay along the edges, this isn't right…"

He readied his shield, creeping up to the massive warrior. Red eyes opened, and a large halberd swiped at Randull, contacting his shield. He grunted, leaning forward in an attempt to absorb the blow.

Scarlet began casting a small lightning spell on her bolts, quickly firing one into the exposed neck of the heavily armored warrior. He yelled, turning his red eyes on her. She fired another one, and began to sprint, dodging the charging lunge of his weapon.

A stinging erupted in her lower back, followed by the familiar scent of blood. She felt herself fall to the ground. Her arms pushed up, but when she tried to move her legs…

Pain shot through her spine, and she dropped back to the ground, groaning. The noise of Randull's battle echoed around her. She managed to twist her head to the side. A weak smile spread as she watched him sever the warrior's head off.

"Scarlet… _my god_ …"

She felt him lift her up; her mind floating in and out of consciousness.

* * *

Scarlet came to in the shrine. She was lying against the basin of a throne pedestal. She pushed her upper body up, glancing around to find the familiar faces of the typical denizens. Panic rose.

 _They're all gone._

"Not gone. Merely…they have not arrived yet. Or, they may never. It is another world, after all."

Her eyes snapped towards the silver figure, their legs swung over in front of the Abyss Watchers' throne, far above her. A tattered, blackened tassel, tied in the same fashion of Ornstein, fell about behind them. A dark shadow fell over their face, with damp, twilight blue cloth cascading along their neck and shoulders.

"Randull?" Her voice was raspy, and she winced, attempting to sit up. The sound of metallic feet hitting the floor echoed in the massive great room. Her eyes fell to the center of the shrine: there was no bonfire.

Hands gently grabbed her shoulders, and the warm glowing light of a charm arose from his left hand. She sighed, feeling the small healing effects wash over her. She narrowed her eyes, picking up the quick reflection of gray eyes, hidden underneath his helmet.

"Ah, so it is you. You seem…different." Her eyes lazily fell on the glowing charm. "And magic? _Definitely_ an impostor."

He chuckled. "Yes and no. Perhaps I learned a thing or two from our mutual, disgruntled friend."

She looked down at her hands, noticing the tight wrapping around them and her forearms. Black leggings covered her legs, and a faded black dress, sliced off above the knees, covered her torso. An embroidered, shortened cape covered her shoulders.

"Is this the Firekeeper's?"

"Portions of it are worn by Firekeepers, yes. Your old attire was beyond repair, and we do not have the luxury of a bonfire at this moment. These were the few pieces the shrine maiden possessed."

Scarlet looked over, down the interconnecting corridor to the lower portion of the shrine. A familiar figure sat, leaned over in her chair. She glanced back to Randull.

"Does she know us?"

He shook his head. "No. I believe this is from a time prior to our awakening."

She leaned back against the pedestal, her body still weak from the injury she had sustained. Randull sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders to help keep her balanced. She grabbed his free hand, interweaving their fingers. Her face fell to the side, feeling the coldness from his armor.

"Do you still resent me, my love?"

She squeezed his hand, her eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. "No…I never resented you. Angry with you, yes. Quite so. However, that seems to have lessened with time." Her head tilted up, gazing into the blackness between the twilight blue cloth. "Tell me, who are you?"

"A knight, much like I became during my last reincarnation, except, much more powerful. A faithful to the Lord of Sunlight himself, Gwyn, fated to fall to the Abyss, where I was eventually bested by a chosen undead."

The silver helmet turned from her, gazing out, over the vacant shrine. "The former lover of another."

Scarlet grimaced, slowly releasing her grasp from his hand. Her posture straightened, although his arm stubbornly remained around her shoulders. An idea popped into her head.

"Let me go talk to-"

"No. I said _former_ , Scarlet. Not _current_. I have called you her name before."

She leaned farther away from him, attempting to position herself out of his reach. _His arms are ridiculously long_.

He chuckled, pulling her closer.

"I'd rather not _cuddle_ when you're talking about the past women you've slept with. It's not exactly my idea of a good time."

He groaned in irritation. "I didn't tell you that as a bragging right. I felt it important you knew _who_ I once was. That includes those I surrounded myself with."

Her eyebrow raised. "Are you hoping I'm her? Because I am afraid you're setting yourself up for disappointment, my friend."

He glanced down at her. " _My friend_?" He shook his head. "I know you are not her. She made her own choices and found a different path." A gloved finger ran along the edge of her face. "Her name was Ciaran, a loyal Knight of Gwyn, such as myself. However, her origins were much older."

He abruptly let go of her shoulder and stood up. She looked over his new attire, noticing how it fit his form much more closely than his previous, bulky knight attire. He turned to her.

"Time folds in on itself, as you once stated, creating an endless stream of branching realities. Her name prior to knighthood was Anwen. She had been cursed with undeath."

"My sister?" Scarlet choked on the words.

He nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Scarlet put her hand over her face as she tried to get a grasp on what he just told her. Silence fell between them, and she took a few deep breaths, before responding.

"Then…I guess, we find her?" Her stomach churned, and she felt the sudden urge to hurl. She silently laughed; she hadn't eaten since she was alive in Zena. _Maybe I'd throw up some petrified plants._

"She is not like us. She rejected her hollowness. She rejected the Abyss, and that which I had become. Long she lingered at my grave, until presented with my soul."

His hand made a sweeping motion in the air. "Your betrayal fell at the same hands as mine, my love. While your sister cursed your rightful immortality, she feasted upon my soul, stripping me of my power, to forever live as a shadow of what I once was."

Her eyebrows furrowed, as a broken, pained looked spread over her face. "It was… _her_? She was dead though. How?!" Scarlet pulled at her hair, tears beginning to pour down her cheeks.

"She killed herself, knowing she would awaken in a different world, leaving you as the suspect with ulterior motives. An agent of Frampt, till the bitter end. In fact, even now, she serves the serpent, blindly." He titled his head towards her. "Unwillingly binding yourself to another does not cause death...you know this, first hand, as you still live."

She looked up at him with watery eyes. " _How_ …how can you know this?"

He stepped to her, crouching to face level. She saw the vague outline of his facial features. "She was unable to consume my soul in its entirety. My essence intermixed with hers, and I saw all of her; her past, her present."

His hand stretched out, and he placed a gentle touch on Scarlet's cheek, wiping some of her tears to the side. "I saw _you_."


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry, it has been a while. I was laid-off, found a new job, and moved states, all within a period of three weeks.

Since Eygon magically died, off camera in the game, I didn't think it was too much of a stretch to keep him hanging around. Also, the new DLC comes out next week. I sort of want to wait and see how it fleshes out before I finish this story.

Anyways, comments and suggestions are always welcomed. Enjoy!

* * *

"This is bullshit."

Scarlet had her hands stretched out in front of the bonfire, a pissed-off expression on her face. They had died multiple times to the insane knights of the castle, forever wandering along their meaningless patrols. She glanced over to Randull.

"That armor is tore to hell. I understand you've got attachment issues, but you might seriously want to reconsider what you run around in."

His head slowly turned towards her. "Says the woman wearing half a dress."

"Yes, well, at least my legs are clothed. Your pants are missing a couple of decent sized _chunks_."

He said nothing, turning back to gaze on the fire. She saw occasional flickers of what lied underneath the shrouded helmet; a far-distant look in his eyes.

She frowned, looking back at her outstretched hands. "I liked you better when you were clueless and slightly immoral."

Silence enveloped the duo. He cleared his throat. "I slept with Karla."

"What?!" Her shout echoed throughout the lower castle level. A few clinks of armor responded in the distance.

Randull began laughing. She gave him a rude hand gesture, and he doubled over, laughing even harder.

They remained at the bonfire for some time, before reluctantly standing up and retrieving their weapons. They continued on, managing to finally kill a heavily geared knight, before it severed their heads.

The path was treacherous; the number of knights and guardsman had increased ten-fold. Scarlet found herself quickly running through the extra bags of bolts she had brought with her. They reached another bonfire, located before the bridge leading towards the grand stairway to the second level. She narrowed her eyes, looking at the surroundings by the bridge.

 _Nothing._

"I don't like this. My instincts tell me to beware."

Randull took a seat on some overturned, large stones near the bonfire. He pulled his helmet off, tossing it to the side. This castle was still heavily fortified; something he had _not_ expected.

"I believe the Archives are just ahead, across the second bridge in the distance, to your upper left. It was a promise I made to you quite some time ago. I'm…sorry. It took me much too long to get you here."

She turned to face him, her eyebrow raised. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because I should be better than this. You're correct: I am _dreadfully needy_. I am only a fraction of what I once was. My progress towards this damning goal has primarily been dependent upon you."

She walked over, kneeling in front of him. "Hey, I didn't choose to marry you with expectations that you'd be some warrior on par with a god."

His forehead wrinkled. "You didn't choose to marry me at all."

She grinned, reaching out grab his shoulder. "Exactly."

She watched as his expression saddened. His eyes looked at hers; shame hidden behind the gray orbs. Her heart felt a small twinge, and she found herself frowning in response, dropping her hand to turn away.

Something large hit the ground, and she stumbled backwards on her rear. Looking up, so saw the tell-tale signs of stone scales. She scrambled to her feet, swiping her crossbow off the ground and sprinting up the stairs to the right, ending before the bridge heading into the main part of the castle.

Two dragons turned their heads towards her. She swung her crossbow over her shoulder, squinting her eyes as she glanced over their form. A presence appeared next to her.

"Dragons? _Here_?

A blackness flickered at the feet of the dragon to the left. She narrowed her gaze, picking up on the amorphous mass of corruption, attempting to keep hidden within its new host.

"No…these are the mere shells. They are being driven by darker means." She glanced towards him. "This explains the dead ones we've seen along the high wall."

"Where is _it_ finding all these carcasses, though?"

She frowned, releasing a deep breath. "Archdragon Peak." Her eyes hardened. "I fear what we will find there."

She sat on the ground, edging to the side of the platform, jumping to the lower edge below. A few hollows stumbled about in the narrow, stoned water runoff below. She kept close to the edge, avoiding their gaze. Since her _binding_ , she found that she could sense the lingering darkness of those cursed to become a man-of-pus. It was best not to encourage a transformation, when possible.

Randull appeared behind her, keeping a low profile as well. "I've never heard of this place. Where's it located?"

She loaded a bolt, keeping a steady watch on the armed, hollowed remnants of soldiers ahead. "It is not traveled to _physically_. The Path of the Dragon is arduous. Those who lack conviction will never step foot on its grounds."

His eyes narrowed on her. "Are you telling me I cannot enter?"

She looked back at him, lowering her crossbow slightly. She glanced up and down. "I said conviction, not intelligence."

He leaned closer to her. "I _know_ what conviction means, Scarlet."

She suppressed a laugh, and turned back, firing a bolt into an unsuspecting archer on the level above. It fell over, twitching, scattering its bag of bolts across the ground. The other undead soldiers clamored to the corpse, staring at it in confusion. She pulled Randull behind her as they quickly moved across the small yard, hiding behind a few crates along the opposite wall.

"Where are we going?"

"You are full of questions today, my friend. Is this part of your old self, or something entirely new?"

He looked down at her, grinning. "You've managed to catch me during one of my rare, inquisitive moods. Enjoy it, it won't last long."

"We're going to get the drop in on the dragon on the left. Its ankle is… _infected_. We're going to cure it."

A large undead warrior charged at them. Randull sprung to his feet, lifting his shield in an accurately timed parry, causing the hollow to lose balance. His sword quickly ran through them, and he used his foot to push the corpse off his sword, onto the ground.

"Why do you say you're weaker? Even when my-" She stopped, closing her eyes, wincing a bit. " _Anwen_ …tried to consume your soul, how have you not gained a good portion back?"

His gaze kept forward, watching the movements of another hollow making its way towards them. He lifted his shield, his knees bent with a wider posture, bracing himself for impact. "Simple: I gave you all my sigils."

Her eyes followed the rolling head of the second warrior, as it passed her. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

He shrugged. "I felt bad. Figured I can get them back later, anyways."

A disgusted expression spread over her face. "How? By stabbing me in the heart again?"

He turned to her, lifting his helmet up enough to show his face; a wide, mischievous grin spread across his mouth. "Stabbing you, yes, but not in the heart." He winked.

Her jaw dropped, and he turned, slicing across the chest of another undead soldier. He laughed, making his way up stone steps, clearing the area of the remaining hollows.

A voice entered her mind. _Don't act so flabbergasted. We are married, after all._

She rolled her eyes, following after him.

* * *

He was running around, dodging the swipes of the mimic that had sprung to life. Scarlet was sitting in chair, her legs propped on a nearby table.

"A little help here!" He pushed off the wall, ducking as the grotesque creature slammed its hand into the stone. It made an eerie, unsettling noise, springing back with abnormal agility.

"Depends. Did you sleep with Karla?"

He stopped, jerking his heads towards her. " _What?!_ You can't be serious…" The creature charged at him, its long arms attempting to snatch him, and he kicked a barrel between them, watching as it tripped, scattering to the floor. He ran to the other side of the room, grabbing the sword the creature knocked out of his hand earlier.

"Oh…I am _very serious_." She had her hands calmly placed on her lap.

He gritted his teeth. _She's infuriating_. He lunged towards the creature, slicing one of its arms off. A putrid ooze seeped out of the new wound, and it wailed, angrily knocking him back into some crates. It readied itself to jump, finding itself encased in fire before its feet even left the ground. Inhuman noises echoed in the large, lofty room, and it curled in on itself, disintegrating into ashes.

Randull pushed himself up, groaning and placing a hand on his forehead. " ** _No_**. I did not sleep with Karla." The small charm on his belt began to glow, his foot nudged the ashes of the mimic, seeing what it had managed to swallow. His boot clinked against something metallic.

Scarlet leaned forward, her eyes narrowing on the gray sword that appeared. "What is _that_?"

He sheathed his weapon, picking up the dull looking blade. It shimmered, and a spark of lightning ignited, crackling around the blade's edges. He lifted his helmet, giving Scarlet a wide grin.

"Looks like you're not the only one that's _special_ now."

She scoffed. "What is that, exactly, supposed to mean? It's one of his junk swords, anyways."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Junk? And _whose_ sword?"

Her eyes became big, and she stared at a chest full of weapons to her left, trying to flood her mind with random thoughts. Hands gently grabbed her shoulders, and she saw him in front of her.

" _Who_ , Scarlet?"

She shook her head, trying to desperately to keep her mind blank. Images flickered, and she would immediately kill the thought, filling the empty space with the objects around her.

"You can tell me, or I can find out myself. The choice is yours."

She blinked, her eyes widening, as she went to pull away. His bare hand cupped her face, and his eyes closed. The images began to flash; memories of old. A coastal city of ancient structures, and scientific achievements. Metal intertwined with stone; the faith of the populace, bringing a calming energy to the thriving civilization.

 _It was the turn of season, and the leaves were beginning their decent to the chilled ground below them. She had a fur cloak draped across her shoulders, staring out the glass window. Her finger ran along the foggy sheen. Winter's chill would soon spread across the land._

 _A warm hand ran up her back, wrapping around her shoulders, down across her chest. She felt a moist, warm kiss on the nape of her neck._

 _"You will leave soon…" Her heart ached. She knew this time would come._

 _"And I will return for you. For it is destiny."_

 _She intertwined her fingers with his, giving them a squeeze. She chuckled. "My Lord's destiny, or Fate's?"_

 _A hand spread across her breast, cupping it as the other tilted her chin back. Lips met hers…"_

A sharp pain cut through her mind, and she cried out. Darkness spread, and she found herself desperately trying to scream, except no sound came. All she could do was choke on the small gasps of air, as her mouth hung open, and her body trembled.

She fell to the floor, curling in on herself as she coughed, her body still shaking from blackness that had spread through her. Her mind was scattered, and she struggled to regain her senses. _The darkness…so cold…_

Strong arms lifted her up, and the feel of a small breeze fell over her. Her eyes struggled to open, and her consciousness began to slip.

* * *

She was staring out the window of the small, boarded up room they found in an upper level. Her feet were crossed underneath her on the old bed, as her elbows propped her head up on the window sill. Across from her current locations was a large, ornate bridge, leading towards the archives.

"The answers you seek will surely be within its grand chambers."

Her lip curled. She made no motion towards the voice behind her, content to ignore its presence, entirely. He sighed.

"I did not mean to hurt you, I had no idea that would happen."

She closed her eyes, her anger beginning to boil. _Go to fucking hell_.

"Hell is something I have already spent near an eternity in, _Braith_."

Her head jerked around towards him, her eyes wide with distrust. He was out of his armor, sitting on a wooden chair in the tunic and shortened leggings he typically wore underneath.

"Not only have you scarred my mind, but you have also infringed on that which you were not welcomed to know."

"To know my wife's true name? You cannot deny me that, my love."

Her eyes narrowed as she sneered at him. "Quit calling me that. I am anything but."

A mischievous grin formed. "Lies are something we no longer have the luxury of." The smile turned into a bitter one. "However, it seems that you have been another's, as well. How surreptitious of you to keep such secrets hidden." A blackness flashed behind his eyes, and Scarlet scrambled away, pressing against the wall.

A hurtful expression formed on his face. "I wish you'd stop thinking that I'm going to harm you."

She gave him a dirty look. "You _have_ , idiot."

He chuckled nervously, grabbing the back of his neck as he stood up. "Trust me, it's not intentional." He glanced back at her, sadness in his eyes. "Never mind, I know you don't trust me. Anyways, I seem to still carry a portion of the Abyss inside. It's not exactly… _easy_ to control."

"Why'd you force yourself inside my mind?"

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "I didn't force anything."

Her expression changed to that of bewilderment. Her eyes quickly glanced around, as she tried to remember what had happened. "Then…why did it hurt so much?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you're not used to the Abyss? Or it could have been my state of mind. Sometimes you cause me pain, as well. The stronger your emotions, the more it hurts to hear your thoughts."

Her eyes narrowed. "Good. Stay the fuck out, then."

He gave her a charming smile, nodding slightly. "As my lady wishes." He glanced to the side, his eyes widened. "Besides, I have no desire to see _that_ again." He looked back at her, giving her a quick up and down. "Well, at least not with another man."

She put a hand over her forehead, laughing nervously. "This is, just…" She lost the words to express her current emotional state.

He moved towards the bed, glancing out the window. The butterfly pilgrims were close, something he did not necessarily care for. His eyes squinted. It looked like a statue moved on the bridge.

She was oblivious to him, looking towards his pile of armor on the floor. "I guess I can't keep holding your past affairs against you, now. But honestly, I'm surprised about Karla. Your ability to control yourself around women has been pretty abysmal." She quickly glanced up at him. "Excuse the pun."

He laughed, turning towards her. "Yes, well, getting my skull crushed against a wall was not a pleasant experience. I cannot even imagine how it would feel having my privates end up the same way."

She laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Besides, it would humiliate you."

Her eyebrow raised. "And you care, why?"

"I am not without honor. Vows are not something I take lightly."

She draped her elbow over her bent knee, relaxing her form. A sly grin formed. "So tell me, you would have been faithful to Anri, a woman you did not necessarily care for?"

He grinned in return. "I would have _tried_. Although, being around you nonstop would have proven to have been extremely difficult, much like it has." He eyes scanned over her. "Being around you _now_ is proving to be extremely difficult."

She chuckled. "Running out of available options, or does the self-imposed celibacy make even the most mundane become, suddenly, desirable?"

He tilted his heard, raising an eyebrow at her. "I supposed the same could be said of you. You, after all, were eager to sleep with not just one, but two _assholes_."

She scoffed, wrinkling her nose. "Yes, well, at least I show restraint."

His face took on an incredulous expression. "You are so full of shit, sometimes. Having a lack in the means of _how_ does not automatically equal restraint."

She blankly stared at him for a few moments. Suddenly, a large smile began to form, followed by laughter.

* * *

"Scarlet, I really need my sigils back."

She had dragged him off the bridge, away from the murderous, living set of armor. His left arm was shattered, flopping off to the side with pieces of his broken shield embedded into the skin. His legs were smashed.

She was breathing heavy, pulling him down the steps of the first wing of the castle. The bonfire was still a long distance away. She tripped, smacking into the wall.

"For fuck's sake, you're even wearing lighter armor!"

He snickered, trying to take his mind off the pain. " _Language_ …"

She wiped the sweat off her forehead, bending down to grab the only limb _not_ broken. A smeared trail of blood followed behind them.

"God Randull…I don't know if…I can get you there…" She was taking large breaths, forcing the words out in between.

"Let me die."

She shook her head, grunting as she dragged him a bit further. "No…it will take…a long time…and you…may not die…"

He sighed. "Then kill me."

His head hit the marble floor; a resounding thud echoing up the stairs. She was standing over him, her hands on her hips, her chest rapidly rising and falling. Her eyes were wide with shock.

" ** _No_**."

She crouched to grab his arm, finding his hand latching around hers instead. He pulled her closer, wincing from the throbbing pain all over his body. "Please."

Fire erupted across the bridge. She looked out, seeing the second dragon eagerly waiting for them. She felt the hilt of his blade being pushed in her hand.

"Make it quick."

Tears began to form. Out of all their travels, she had never been forced to make this decision. It was the one thing she held against him, out of all his gross trespasses from their time together. The image of the sword in her chest flashed in her mind. Was it really betrayal to bind her forever to this reality?

 _To him_.

His hand reached up, placing it on her cheek, as his thumb wiped away some of her tears. "Yes it was, my love, and I am truly sorry." She saw a wetness form around his eyes. She took a deep breath, reaching out to cradle the back of his head in her hand. Her lips brushed against his.

"Love knows no betrayal, only forgiveness."

She plunged the blade into his heart.

* * *

She was watching the self-propelled armor march around the bridge, ducking a bit as a shadow of one of the grotesque flying _things_ crossed over her. Randull's soul was in her hand. It had been some time since she had _killed him_ , and she was nervously waiting for him to return.

A small flame spread from the center of her palm, outwards, wrapping itself around his soul. The recent teachings she had received were from Karla, thanks to the tomes discovered in the ruins far beneath the land. Not only could she burn her enemies, but she was now able to protect those that she held dear.

 _"Simple: I gave you all my sigils._ "

She wondered; did this mean she was powerful enough to destroy what was in front of her, at this moment?

A voice entered her head. _Don't you dare, woman._

A wicked smile spread across her face. She crushed his soul, closing her eyes as she felt the sensational fullness that came with it. Green eyes reappeared as fire began to spread from her hands, up her arms. She narrowed her sights on the moving armor, counting its steps.

She lunged forward, a blaze of fire shooting out from her hands. It wrapped itself around the mindless spirit, seeping in between the cracks of the armor. It made no noise, only twitching slightly, as it swung its large shield and ax in her direction. She immediately stopped, skipping forward a few steps, swirling around in the other direction.

"That was a really bad idea!" Her shout immediately died over the roar of the clinking armor behind her. She jumped down the steps, ducking as the massive ax made a horizontal movement aimed at removing her head. She saw Randull appear from the stairs leading to the lower level.

"Whoops!" She blew past him, skipping down the steps. He glanced straight ahead, seeing a massive shield barreling towards him. He turned direction, following after her.

"What the hell?!"

He reached the bottom of the steps, glancing around to find her. A hand grabbed his arm, jerking him back towards a small recess underneath the stairs. She pulled him close, assuring that he was covered in the shadow. The heavy footsteps of the armor echoed in the giant room. He felt the vibrations of each step on the stairs above his head.

They both held their breaths, as a glimpse of the massive ax came near. It eventually lost interest, and slowly ascended the stairs, back to its mindless patrol of guarding the entrance to the archives. Randull slowly turned, looking straight into Scarlet's face.

"And you call me an idiot."

Her face held a blank expression. She shrugged her shoulders, and climbed out of the small recess.

"Well, since I have _all_ the sigils…"

"You really need to learn to share."

Her head snapped towards him, an offended look on her face. He was straightening his posture, using his large sword for stability. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"What happened to your shield?"

He chuckled, swinging the massive sword over his shoulder. "It seemed to be ineffective against our newest foe, my dear. This here, is a weapon I am quite familiar with. My instincts tell me it will be much more helpful with our current goal. The blood of the wolf courses through this blade."

She glanced down at her crossbow. In all of her travels, she had never tried anything different. In fact, most weapons were always taken by Randull, disappearing into the void that served as his overflowing weapons chest by Andre. She rotated the wooden body, noticing all the nicks and gouges from the numerous skirmishes.

Randull patiently waited, observing her movements as well as her thoughts. He glanced around the chamber, his eyes falling on the bridge. He had killed the second "infected" dragon. It was more out of annoyance, than anything else.

"Let's go back to the shrine and collect ourselves. Our new adversary isn't going anywhere."

Scarlet snapped out of her thoughts, looking up from her crossbow at him. "Okay."

* * *

Andre's hypnotic hammer strikes had already caused her to drift off to sleep a few times. She was in an alcove opposite of Karla; one of the pyromancy tomes in her lap. It was a recent translation, and she was skimming over the various techniques and guidelines of how to control even more complex spells. A large, black figure appeared next to Karla. Scarlet's eyes looked up, while her head was still bent towards the book.

The two lovers whispered lowly to each other, as if still trying to hide from the remaining, "sane", denizens of the land. It was charming, if anything. Scarlet grinned, shutting her book, and standing up. She took the stairs to the right, towards the corridor into the main chamber. She would give them their privacy, even if Greirat wouldn't.

"My Lady."

 _Oh no, not her…_

Scarlet cringed, taking a few moments to wash her face with a blank expression, before turning around. Yuria stood at the edge of the corridor, in her typical straight and regal posture.

"Thou know'st thy role to our Lord?"

She gritted her teeth. While it was not outright spoken, she had the small inclination that Yuria had fabricated Anri's "unwillingness". Obviously, whatever she possessed was of greater value than the former Knight of Astora. However, her precious plan backfired, as Scarlet retained most of the power of _their Lord_. Another _"slight oversight"_.

"Thine power is greater, is it not? All due to the generosity of thy spouse…such acts should not be presumed expected, lest a false contentment arise."

"Then how do I give _our Lord_ his sigils back?" Scarlet knew the answer to this, but simply wanted to see how it was going to be answered, out of a pure desire to make their interaction as undesirable for this woman as possible.

Yuria paused, her hidden face turning towards the side as she considered her response. Her hand was placed on the chin of her paper-thin helm, as if she was always in deep thought. Her head turned back towards Scarlet.

"Thine marriage is binding, but not consummated. I believe thee knows of such transgressions. I shall not mince words for mere amusement. Tis an integral role thy serves…such purpose should not be treated with such triviality."

Yuria bowed, then turned from Scarlet, heading back into the bowels of the shrine.

 _I'm going to kill her…_

A voice entered her head. _No, you won't. Besides, she's right._

Scarlet scoffed, her face ridden in absolute disgust. A glimmer of something sparkled in the corner of her eyes, and she turned, picking out Randull's form, leaned up against one of the shallow, stone crevices in the wall. His helmet was off; a look of utter amusement on his face.

"You're much more attractive when you smile, my dear."

Her left hand became engulfed in flames; her eyes flashing red. Randull held his arms out in front of him, straightening his position as he chuckled.

"Whoa! Calm down, woman. You know I'm only teasing..."

She rolled her eyes, extinguishing the flame in her palm. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, as he continued to walk forward.

"Actually, I _was_ looking for you. I would like to resume our training, from before."

"Are you referring to having me lug that giant, black sword around again?"

"The _Fume_ greatsword, and no, I have found that trying to build your endurance for melee combat was not progressing as I had expected."

Her eyebrow raised. "How so?"

"You whine… _a lot_."

Her eyes narrowed on him, and she leaned forward, placing a finger on his breastplate.

"Perhaps the instructor's methods are inappropriate?"

He grinned, snatching her hand, and bringing it up to his mouth, placing a kiss on her palm. Scarlet's eyes widened, and she froze.

"We'll meet at the old arena. Armor will not be needed." He winked, stepping past her, towards the old, shrine maiden.

* * *

"What beatings do you have in store for me today?"

Scarlet had her hands on her hips, a partial frown on her face. It had been some time since their last "training" session. She grabbed at her shoulder, winching a bit. A poorly time block had torn the arm from its socket, and the memory of the pain still lingered.

"No beatings…at least, none that I would prefer." He gave her a quick glance up and down. She rolled her eyes in response.

Randull stepped behind the bonfire, pulling out an a very long, decorative bow. It was a golden color, the luster having long been faded by time. A section of the design branched out from the bow itself, giving it a regal feel. Both of Scarlet's eyebrows raised.

"Today…we work on your archery."

"A longbow? Why?"

He held it out for her, a radiant smile on his face. She carefully reached towards it, sliding her fingers along the intricate engravings. Her hand latched around the grip, and she lifted it out of his hands. The weight was comparable to her crossbow, only distributed differently. The shear length was slightly intimidating.

"I have neglected your weaponry. You are a wife of a Lord now, and a Lady deserves only that which is bestowed upon royalty." She gave him an incredulous look, while he maintained a serious expression…until he burst out into laughter. She sighed in annoyance.

He continued, after calming down. "The crossbow is a machine that does the work for you; in as such, it is difficult to moderate, if needed. Here, you will be able to apply as much, or as less, force as you so desire."

"When do you, suddenly, know so much about archery?"

He smiled again, spreading his feet in a confident posture. "I would have you know that I have been the victor of many archery tournaments, prior to my inevitable death."

Her head tilted, and sly smirk on her face. "Was that before, or after, you slept with the judge's daughter?"

His smile became larger. "Both."

He stepped to her; his facial expression becoming focused and serious. He positioned the bow where it needed to be, while she held it. On his hip, he had a few wooden practice arrows. Holding one out, he motioned for her to take it.

"I want you to shoot the bonfire."

Her eyebrows raised. "But it's only four or five strides from my position?"

"Trust me. You are not used to bows, especially ones like this."

She set her sights on the bonfire, hooking the back of the arrow and using her finger to keep the position on the bow string, as she drew it. Her arms began to shake, as the strength required to keep it drawn was becoming more and more difficult. Before she knew it, the arrow flew out of her grasp, and ended up in the ground a few feet from the bonfire.

A slow clap echoed from the other side of the old ruins. She looked up to see Eygon perched on some rubble.

"Pathetic girl, really. All this time, and you have less strength than a babe."

She gave him the appropriate hand gesture in response. He chuckled to himself, leaning back as he crossed his arms. He wasn't going to move anytime soon, it seemed. She let loose another annoyed sigh, and glanced at Randull.

He had a charming smile on his face. "First, we must build your endurance. I'd like you to position yourself again, and draw another arrow."

Scarlet took a couple of breaths, rotating her left shoulder, before she took the arrow he offered. She focused on the fire, drawing the bow. She felt his body move in behind her, and his arms appear on each side of her, making slight adjustments to her positioning. Her arms began to shake even worse than before, and she gritted her teeth, trying to overcome her aching muscles.

"Stay focused, my love." He placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck. The arrow flew, ricocheting off the stone, and hitting Eygon. The arrow head made a loud "tink", as it fell back to the ground.

"Girl…" He growled, slowly getting up, and swinging his massive weapon over his shoulder. "You're a lost cause." He headed out through the old, wooden doors, towards the shrine.

"Randull…you need to stop." Her eyes were focused on Eygon's form, as it became smaller.

A warm chuckle sounded behind her. "I highly doubt _that_ is going to happen, my dear."

"Until you get your sigils back…" She grabbed at the hem of her tunic, throwing it over her shoulders, and tossing it to the ground. Her hands unlatched the belt of her trousers, and she quickly kicked them off. Reaching up, she began to undo her breast band. She kept her back to Randull; her shame too great.

 _It has to be done, though. It's my duty._

A hand snatched hers, as the cloth of her band fell. She swallowed, slowly glancing over her shoulder. His face was full of pain, as he kept an intense gaze on her.

"No, it's not." He dropped her hand, taking a step back from her, anxiety rolling off of him. "I… _I refuse_." She closed her eyes, as she felt the slight breeze of his body moving past her, and heard his steps towards the exit of the ruins. She stood there, naked, trembling as the tears began to fall.

* * *

"Why are you wasting my time, Unkindled?"

Randull had his arms full of books, which he proceeded to dump in front of Eygon. Eygon had a chair turned around, straddling the back end, while his arms draped over the top.

"I wasn't aware you had a robust schedule, Knight of Carim. Your charge is now a Firekeeper, albeit, for a different champion and age. Besides, I cannot think of one thing you were actually _doing_ when she was sitting in the corner of the shrine."

Eygon growled, his patience beginning to thin. He had agreed to help the vain hollow defeat the remnants of the old, animated set of dragonslayer armor. However, he had _not_ agreed to sit in the Archives, browsing over ridiculous, theoretical dribble.

"Why isn't _your wife_ here?"

Randull grimaced, sucking in some air. His eyes were scanning over the first book on the table. "I, sort of…messed up."

Eygon leaned closer to the table. "You don't say? I'm shocked. Which time was it? When you stabbed her in the heart, or you turned her down for sex and left her in the middle of an open space, naked?"

Randull closed his eyes, his cheeks getting slightly red.

"Or, was it when you frolicked around, fucking anything that moved, usually leaving her behind to fight for her life?"

"Okay…I get it."

"Selfish and stupid…is the best way to describe you. The love of a woman like that is rare, indeed. And here you are…squandering it away in your idiocy."

Randull glanced up to demon-like, black helm. "You pursued her once. Why did you stop?"

An awkward silence fell between the two. The sounds of deranged thieves echoed from the levels above, as they frantically scrambled up the shelving stacks.

"Her affections were already claimed. It would have been a futile endeavor, on my part."

"That goddamn rogue..." His eyes fell back to the book on the table, resuming his quick glance over of the text. The thought of that man still irked him. It was the one time he ever relished in slaughtering another.

"No. _You_ , unfortunately."

His eyes snapped up to the black helm, again.

"She is a fool, but her conviction is commendable, even though it is grossly misplaced."

Randull's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. "You know, the only reason Irina is now a Firekeeper is _because_ of Scarlet."

The massive, black helm tilted slightly. "I gathered as much. We all know you weren't interested in giving her anything except your privates."

"I'm beginning to think you're merely stalling, because you're illiterate. Perhaps I should bring Karla here, so she can read you some bedtimes stories."

Eygon burst into laughter, snatching a book with one of his gloved hands.


	16. Chapter 16

A few bits are slightly NSFW, but nothing too drastic.

* * *

Scarlet was at the highest point of the shrine, in the tower above where Irina now lingered. She was sitting cross-legged, hunched slightly with her head in her palms. The ruined grounds of Archdragon Peak glimmered in the far distance. She sighed, her heart beginning to ache.

 _My home, my friends..._

Resentment had long faded, being replaced by a never-ending shroud of sadness. She had kept her distance from Randull for a while. Her reasons for avoidance were not the same as last time; she was ashamed.

Her thoughts returned to the glimmering ruins in the distance. Perhaps…they may have survived? Would they be as twisted and as evil as this reality was?

 _Never…the first born was as resilient as the sun itself._

"Is that who your former lover was?"

Her gaze lingered on the mountain peaks in the distance. A warm, fondness began to spread form her inner being. She sighed.

"The son of a God would not take a commoner as their consort. It was forbidden. However, he was my Lord…and my friend."

"The man from your memories…you referred to him as 'Lord'."

She smiled, her eyes glistening with water. "Ah, yes, so I did. A play on words, although, his station was higher than mine, so technically, it was an accurate form of address."

Randull pushed off the stone pillar, walking towards Scarlet's sitting form. He was wearing black trousers and a simple tunic. After he and Eygon had cleared most of the lower Archives, he found himself spending quite a bit of time among its endless rows of shelves. His current attire was much more conducive to academic pursuits than his armor was.

"Where is he?"

Her head fell and she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I…I don't know. He moved onto the next age, while I remained dead, enthralled within my damning curse." Her head lifted again. "The sword we found…was his. The skill with lightning I possess…it was, also, his."

"The scroll you had in your hands when you first returned from your world?"

She nodded, still averting her gaze from the man behind her. "He chose a different path, as well…"

"Only the divine possess mastery over lightning."

"Or their loyal followers. In the ages before this, he sacrificed himself within the Kiln of the First Flame; much like what they are asking of you. Whether he was rebirthed again, or not, is something outside of my knowledge." Memories tumbled forward, and she sighed, saddened even further. "His ambition and faith were unwavering. His love for me…not so much."

"I will not abandon you, Scarlet."

A broken smile formed on her lips. An ancient pain still cutting a wound in her heart, ever deeper.

"The duties of a Lord outweigh the desires of a fool. However, we are at the end of the age of Fire…and I fear, the end of Dark, as well. For without Fire, Darkness ceases to exist."

"The Abyss always exists."

She shook her head. "You confuse Darkness with the Abyss. It was not always such. They are not the same, although, that matters little now, as the Darkness has come to corrupt the Abyss, heralded by the oppression of Fire. The Abyss is dark, yes, but it is not _Darkness_ …"

She stood, gazing one last time in the distance, before slowly turning to face her spouse. "This world is ending, Abysswalker. The rebirth of Fire, or Dark, will only prolong the festering rot and defilement." She grabbed at her arms, rubbing up and down the sides as a cold breeze whipped past her. Her gaze fell to the side. "There has to be another way…"

He kept a slight distance from her. It had been some time since he had looked upon her beautiful face; only spotting quick glimpses of her quickly exiting any room he entered. She nervously glanced up, meeting his eyes for only a moment, before looking back at the ground. His hand shot out, gently grasping her arm. She froze; her eyes wide with panic.

"I found something I wanted to show you." He gave her arm a slight squeeze, and offered a warm smile. She tilted her head, confused. His hand slowly moved down her arm, wrapping itself around hers, intertwining their fingers. "Come."

He brought her back into the shrine, up the ascending stairs that rose behind Ludleth. She saw the central throne for the Prince of Lothric, noticing the remnants of candles from where Leonhard used to stand, long ago…

The pathway continued towards a large, remote section of the shrine. Across a large expanse was Patches, who was busily hunched over his stolen wares, rearranging them in a near manic behavior. The flicker of candles brought her focus to the back corner. A table was set up, with piles of books nearby. It looked like Orbeck had set up a second shop.

Randull dropped her hand, walking towards the table. He scanned over an open book, picking it up. He brought it to her, gesturing for her to take it.

"Here. This is the best I could find on Zena."

She took the book, turning to the first page. Her eyebrows raised.

"This is written is my native tongue. How can you even read this?"

Randull gave her a wide grin, his gray eyes twinkling. "Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a complete idiot." He glanced to the side, scowling slightly. " _Or illiterate_."

Scarlet laughed, walking past him towards the table. She was already skimming over the pages. How he found this, not to mention, how he was able to understand it…

She glanced up, finding him watching her with a warm expression. "Why would you do this?"

His expression turned serious, and he began to pace, grabbing at the back of his neck. "Because…I know it's important to you."

 _Because I hurt you._

She continued reading, a warm smile lingering on her face. He watched as her expression fell from a pleasant smile, to outright shock. Her eyes rapidly scanned over the text. She slowly looked up at him.

"Swallowed by the sea…"

Her head fell, as she continued to read. "Cursed by the Gods for their blasphemous indiscretions; they thought themselves equal, if not better, to our Lord Gwyn."

Randull stood in silence, his arms casually draped over his chest. Suddenly, Scarlet snatched the book and threw it against the wall. The binding of the ancient tome split, causing the crumbling pages of parchment to scatter. She slammed her fists on the table.

"I'll fucking rip her black heart out!"

Randull stepped over, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. She latched onto his torso; tears began to fall.

"I loved her…she was supposed to be the beautiful one…"

He ran a hand along the back of her head, making slow, sweeping motions along her hair. "And what were you?"

Her breathing calmed, and she stood there, clutching on to him as the painful feeling of betrayal slowly dissipated. She sniffed. "The freckled one."

She felt his chest vibrate, as he released a loud, bombast laugh. She frowned, pushing back to straighten her posture and stepping away. His hand reached out, cupping her chin.

"So astute of a name, however, I believe those who bestowed that title were wrong in their assumptions; your beauty far exceeds your sister's."

Scarlet began to blush, instinctively moving his hand off her chin. She cleared her throat, as she headed towards the split, damaged book on the ground.

"Yes, well, that remains open for debate." She stared at the fluttering pages on the ground. She closed her eyes, willing a small flame in her palm, sending it to the ground. The remnants of the text quickly turned to ashes. She heard an annoyed sigh behind her.

"Do you know how long it took me to find that, woman?"

She grinned.

* * *

"Of all the places to have taken me, you chose here."

Karla trailed behind her, over the smoldering corpse of a jailer. Scarlet's curiosity had grown almost unbearable; she had to see for herself if her friends still lived within this world.

"I am truly sorry, Karla, however, I thought you might enjoy the satisfaction of slaughtering your previous oppressors."

A dying jailer was slowly dragging itself across the floor; a trail of putrid blood being left in its wake. Karla lifted the hem of her skirt, grabbing the dagger she kept hidden underneath. She knelt over the jailer, painfully yanking at the top of their deformed head. She sliced across their throat through the heavy cloth veil. The sounds of pained, wet choking followed. She grinned.

"Perhaps you are correct."

They headed to the left, through the large chamber that once served as her imprisonment. Karla had kept silent for most of their journey; it had been some time since she had traveled with company. A thought entered her mind.

"Does your spouse know what you seek?"

Scarlet's head shook in response. "No. I find our… _relationship_ , to be ever strained. I am afraid he would not take such an objective with good graces."

"I am glad you brought me along. While not the most robust scholar, such as Orbeck proclaimed himself to be, I am very interested to see how a reversal is attempted. The blood of a dragon is invaluable, should it be a true wyrm, that is." She continued to walk behind her companion a bit further. "What do you, suppose, will happen?"

They reached the crumbling pathway that opened into the sky. The peaks of the mountains came into view. Scarlet squinted, making out the distant ruins. She sat on the ground, bending her knees and keeping her feet flat against each other. She motioned Karla to follow suit.

"If it all works, as planned, I will break the binding and return to my world, leaving all this behind as nothing more than a painful memory." Her gaze turned back to the peaks. "Now clear your mind and focus on the ruins in the distance. Only those with conviction are shown the way."

Karla observed as her companion kept her head straight, placing her hands on her knees. Scarlet closed her eyes, controlling her breathing in slow and steady intervals. Karla looked out towards the peak, clearing her mind as she slowly let her eyelids fall.

Her mind began to drift…feeling weightless, as she drifted through a gray fog. Time had little meaning in this place between realities. It was not unfamiliar to her, as she had often experienced it when locating the frail tendrils that connected each being to another.

 _The witch seeks knowledge forbidden to her kind…_

Her eyes sprung open, and she found herself kneeling on a gravel pathway. Scarlet's hand was on her shoulder. Karla reached up, giving it a squeeze to signal that she was fine.

The atmosphere was clear. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. The sun's rays streamed down on them in the airy peaks of the mountains. In the distance, she could make out the crumbling structures of the world they may, or may not, still be physically at. She glanced up at her companion.

"Welcome, my friend, to Archdragon Peak."

Karla looked back at herself, noting the dirty, faded black of her outfit. How different things appeared here. She glanced up at Scarlet, the glimmer of the metal pieces on her armor reflected the bright sun, causing her to raise her hand in front of her eyes.

After taking a few moments to adjust to the unfamiliar environment, they started to walk along a pathway, leading them through cuts into the rock, along large boulders, and up steep inclines. Eventually, they came across a partially collapsed stone entrance, in front of a massive iron gate.

Scarlet scanned their surroundings. Something popped out to the left. She leaned in, her eyebrows raised. Karla noticed, turning to look out in the same direction.

"Is that…a bonfire?"

Scarlet nodded, and began cautiously making her way towards it. It was in near the edge of the cliff. Unkindled, the low glow of embers still seeped beneath the ash, awaiting the spark of a flame.

Scarlet knelt, reaching out to grasp the rusted hilt of the coiled sword within. "This is not good, my friend. It means Fire is here. From what we had seen, I already knew the Dark had infiltrated."

"You doubt your friends have survived, then?" Karla had seated herself in front of the bonfire, allowing it to ease her aches.

"It's possible. However, I have no doubt that they are, now, perverted upon recognition, should they still live."

"You think an untainted dragon still exists?"

Scarlet turned towards her. "Everything in this world is corrupted, including those tied to it. The question becomes the degree of corruption. Can we purify enough of it to create the cupful needed to rid myself of these chains?"

Karla smiled, wickedly. "Chains, hmm? Our mutual champion would be pained to hear it referred to as such."

"The chains are more akin to him, than me. I fear I will never be the kind of consort that such a Lord would require." She glanced around, taking in the scenery. "At least Anri is still alive."

"What about the sigils?"

Scarlet's head dropped, looking straight at Karla. She tilted her head, smiling slyly. "It seems that someone has been eavesdropping."

She waived her hand dismissively. "Please. Everything echoes in that dusty tomb."

"Well, he seemed to take no interest when offered the opportunity." The memory still stung, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of something else. "Oh! Let's see what this does."

She removed the ring, while intensely staring at the skin on her hand. The ivory tissue began to darken, until it shriveled up into the dried, coarse skin of her true form. She sighed.

"How intriguing…I did not know."

Her eyeless face glanced up at Karla's. "Eygon did not tell you?"

"He had no reason to. He is not one to spread secrets…it is not in his nature." She motioned at her. "I am assuming this did not happen in your world?"

Scarlet shook her head. "No…"

Karla hummed, nodding to herself. "I cannot disagree with your motivations in wanting to leave this decrepit world. Yet, I feel as though your spouse has the right to know."

Scarlet shook her head. "No, I am afraid that it would only postpone the inevitable. That is why I brought you along; I will give the remaining sigils to you, as you are the only one skilled enough in the Dark arts to forgo such a task."

"How?"

"The blood of the dragon will allow you to extract the darkness from within me. Objects touched by the Abyss can be used as vessels." Scarlet leaned over, rummaging through her large satchel to the side. A decorated goblet emerged, made from a skull.

"This will hold the blood of the Dark Soul… _his sigils…_ "

"And the means of obtaining your blood?"

Scarlet grinned, standing up while brushing the dirt off her backside. "You are a witch, dear friend. Do not tell me you're unfamiliar with an old-fashioned bloodletting?"

Karla smiled, nodding towards her companion, as they both rose from the bonfire. She pressed in on her palm, firmly following the length of her middle finger, while holding pressure at the base. Her eye twitched.

 _Archdragon Peak._

* * *

Ice cold water splashed over him. He jumped from the floor, shrieking, smacking straight into a wall.

"Get your lazy ass up."

Water dripped from Randull's hair. His eyes snapped to the black figure at his side.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Being among idiots, is one. Fetch your weapon; we're hunting dragons."

Randull sputtered. "Dragons?!"

Eygon threw his breastplate at him, letting it smack into the side of his shoulders. "Any idea of where _your wife_ is, moron?"

"She went down to the old arena to practice archery." Randull tripped, while trying to put his leggings on, smacking into the wall for the second time. "Fuck!"

"That was quite some time ago. Do you even wonder why you've been sleeping, when you're undead?"

Randull's neck twisted towards Eygon. His eyebrows were furrowed; panic beginning to spread.

"What…where is she?"

"Archdragon Peak. Lucky for you, the witch has linked the bonfire to this shrine." Eygon tossed Randull his shield. "Time is of the essence, **_move_**."

Randull stumbled after the knight, still feeling the lethargic effects of the sleeping spell Scarlet cast on him. He willed himself to reach within the void; her vibrant green soul burned brightly. She noticed, and the warm glow disappeared.

 _She's hiding._

Eygon knelt, grasping the hilt of the coiled sword. Randull reached out, placing a gloved hand on the black, jagged armor of his disgruntled companion. The shrine faded, and he found himself covering his eyes, as the sun's glare overwhelmed his senses. He glanced around.

"Mountains?"

"How you were chosen as a potential Lord of Cinder is beyond me…" Eygon rose, swinging his massive hammer over his shoulders.

His eyes fell upon the ruined entrance to the fortress. Eygon kept a quick pace, as Randull found himself sprinting to keep up. They entered the raised gate, passing the charred remains of the serpent-men, who still resided within.

A large roar caused them to skitter to a halt. Randull's face implanted in the back of Eygon's armor, slicing his cheek in the process. The ground began to tremble, and both men fell on their rears. Something massive shrouded them in darkness. He looked up, his jaw dropping.

The dragon reared, lifting its head as it took in a large breath. Something sparkled in the corner of Randull's eye, and he looked up. A figure stood on top of a broken platform. A sword was raised in their hands, reflecting the glorious rays of the sun. A spark of yellow engulfed the figure, as it plunged from the platform. With the sword pointed downwards, it impaled the cranium of the dragon. The figure lingered, driving the sword in even deeper, as the dragon writhed in agony. Eventually, its gigantic head fell to the ground, and the figure flew off, slamming into one of the broken statues that lined the great stairs. A black figure emerged from behind them.

"Fancy seeing you here, champion." Karla was heading back into the fortress after clearing out the remaining serpent-men which lingered outside. Scarlet had insisted that she was more than capable of dealing with the dragon. She looked up at the disintegrating wyrm, humming in approval.

A familiar, feminine groan emanated from the figure crumpled against the stone railing. Randull jumped to his feet, rushing over. Red hair came into view. He reached out, grabbing her shoulders and flipping her on her back in his lap. Her face was bruised, her lip split open…her eyes were rolled in the back of her head. He felt her body begin to convulse. He lifted her in his arms, turning towards the others.

"We need a bonfire."

Karla pointed towards the ascending stairs. "It would be wise to use the one within the ruins, on the upper level. It should be clear." He sprinted off, leaving her and Eygon behind. The large, black form of her lover appeared next to her.

"Why did you summon us?"

Karla kept her gaze straight ahead, watching as Randull disappeared with Scarlet. "She is attempting to break that which is bound, by means of an ancient magic, akin to her own reality. While I have partaken in many sacrilegious rituals, to bleed that tied to the Dark Sign…I find myself _uncertain_."

"Does he know?"

Karla shook her head. "He does not. Nor is it our place to reveal such knowledge." She turned to face him. "Come, let us seek the warmth of the bonfire, as well."

* * *

Randull had Scarlet cradled in his arms, positioned in between his legs, while his back was supported by a stone wall. They were on the dilapidated floor of a small outcrop of the upper level of the fortress. His eyes gazed outwards, taking in the wondrous sight before him. He ran his hand along the back of her head, down her hair. The bonfire had healed her wounds, although her concussion remained.

She squirmed, causing him to look down. She sighed, wiggling herself closer to him.

 _She is still dreaming._

Her eyes snapped open, and she jerked out of his grasp, struggling to sit straight. He placed his hands on her back and shoulder, helping her upright. She nervously looked at him; fear in her eyes. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. His hand slowly lifted towards her face, placing it on her cheek. She watched as the gray orbs changed from a concerned expression, to that of despair.

"You…were going to leave…"

She said nothing, unknowingly holding her breath. His eyes scanned over her face, and she saw his features soften. He removed his hand, placing it on her shoulder and pulling her back against his chest.

"No. I am not angry. Sad, but, I understand your reasoning." His arms wrapped around her, and he kissed the top of her head. "That being said, I absolutely forbid it."

She scowled, but allowed herself to relax in the warmth beneath her, as well as from the bonfire. She spotted her armor in spread out in the corner. It appeared that someone had tried to repair it. She wrapped her arms around his torso, and sighed.

The cackling of the bonfire echoed in the small, open corridor. She felt his hands run down the length of her hair, and smiled, content.

"Why are you here?"

He cleared his throat. "It appears that our mutual _friend_ has an attachment to a certain witch. I was abruptly awoken, after a nice, long nap."

She grimaced. He laughed, squeezing her a little tighter.

"You _are_ quite sneaky. Perhaps the rogue was accurate with his nickname for you."

She pushed off him, catching the mischievous smirk on his face. His hands reached out, cupping the sides of her face. He leaned in closer to her.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to upset you. I only wish I had what he did."

His scent danced across her senses. A familiar masculine musk, intertwined with steel. His gray eyes burned into hers.

"Which was what?" It came out as barely a whisper.

"Your love." He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes as his lips gently pressed against hers. She remained still, slowly letting her eyelids lower. She felt him begin to pull away, and her eyes snapped open. His face beheld a great sadness.

"I…I am sor-"

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close as she slammed her lips on his. Her teeth found his bottom lip, and she sucked a little in her mouth, nipping on it. She felt a hand run along the curve of her hip. The gesture gave her more confidence, and she let her own hands wander underneath the hem of his shirt, slowly dragging them up his bare back. She felt him shiver, and swiped her tongue in his mouth.

He growled, responding to her teasing with intensity. She moved closer, grabbing his wrists and lifting them over his head against the wall. Her legs moved over his, until she was straddling his lap. She felt something hard twitch underneath, and smiled, deepening their kiss.

The sound of voices echoed from outside the open room, and she pushed herself off him, scrambling away a few feet, until her back hit a wall. Karla walked in, followed by Eygon; she had some scrolls tucked under her arms. Karla glanced at Scarlet, then at Randull…then back to Scarlet. A sly grin formed.

"I see." She tilted her head towards Scarlet. "Are you feeling better?"

Scarlet nodded nervously. Her cheeks were bright red, and her eyes kept looking to the side, refusing to glance at the man slowly pulling himself off the floor.

Karla's gaze fell lower, as Randull walked by. Her grin became even wider, and she managed to withhold a snort. "Where are you headed off to?"

He passed Eygon, placing his hand on his black armored shoulder. "I need another bucket of that ice-cold water." Randull disappeared out the doorway, his footsteps fading under the thunderous laughter.

* * *

"I can't keep going on like this. I feel like my balls are going to explode."

Eygon lifted his helmet, looking at his companion with an irritated and disgusted expression. "I wish you'd shut up."

Randull glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You cannot tell me you aren't experiencing the same."

Eygon let his helmet fall back in place, gripping at his hammer. The dragon above them made another swooping pass, engulfing the pathway with fire. The flames died at the entrance of the small room they had taken refuge in.

"I am not a complete idiot when it comes to women."

Randull gave him an unamused look. "Sometimes, I get the feeling that you are not very fond of me. Then I shrug it off, because that would be silly…" He ducked a little, keeping himself shrouded in the shadows as the dragon made another pass. "Besides, Karla doesn't see like the _romantic_ type."

"She's not. She's the _fucking_ type."

"That is a lie, if there ever was one."

Fire engulfed the pathway again, and Eygon ducked further behind the wall. "Believe what you wish. I'm not the one with swollen testicles."

Randull's eyebrows furrowed. "What a disturbing image."

The dragon circled, for one last time, releasing a frustrated roar, as it flew off into the distance. The two men waited patiently until the ancient beast disappeared into the horizon.

They hurried along the crumbling path, ascending the stairs towards another entrance. The distant roar of the dragon caused them to break into a full sprint. A shadow crossed overhead, and Randull jumped into the side chamber, grabbing onto Eygon's arm while using the momentum of his body to swing the heavy knight inwards. Flames erupted, and he felt them lick at his left side, through his armor.

They pushed forward, disposing of a summoner along the way, before it could bring forth more adversaries. The low glow of a bonfire appeared across a small bridge. Randull looked to the left; a giant bell was suspended in the air.

"Don't touch that."

Randull frowned, turning to face his disgruntled companion. "And why would you feel the need to say that?"

Eygon raised his helmet, giving the Unkindled an incredulous look.

Randull walked across the bridge, turning to the right to take note of the countless denizens that still lingered within the ruins. He knelt in front of the bonfire, letting a spark fall from his hand, igniting the ashy pile. He focused, until the image of the open, side corridor formed. He stood, motioning to the two females.

* * *

Scarlet was heading up the curved pathway, away from the central section of the fortress. A force beckoned her…something ancient, something familiar. She put her foot on the carcass of a serpent-man, watching as it plummeted into the thick, white clouds below.

She heard muffled voices. Grabbing her bow, she readied an arrow, quietly moving in the direction of the noises. She ducked behind some rubble, slowly peaking around the side, her bow drawn.

Her eyes went wide, and she put her bow down, loosening the tension on the string. Karla was propped on top of a flat rock, her clothes scattered at the ground. Eygon was between her, his arms braced on each side, as he thrusted in her at a rapid pace. Karla moaned, grabbing at her breast as her head fell back.

Scarlet's cheeks flared a bright red, and she stumbled backwards, doing her best to quietly slip away from the two lovers. Eventually, she picked up speed, almost running up the worn stone steps. Looking back, she heard a loud groan echo from the secluded cliff below. She collided into something.

"Enjoying the view?"

Her head snapped around, and she saw Randull's devious grin. His eyes were partially closed, and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his. She pressed her hands against his breastplate in an attempt to push herself away, but she found that she lacked the will to do so. She opened her mouth more, bringing her hands up along the edges of his face, running her hands through his silky, dark hair.

His left hand cupped her rear, while his right felt along the side of her hips, finding its way underneath her tunic. Her skin was hot and smooth, and he ran his hand across her waist until he reached her breast. His thumb ran across the hardened nipple, and she moaned into his mouth. His senses picked up another scent.

His groin throbbed, and he broke off their kiss, looking around for any place away from the two people nearby, finishing up what he had been dying to do for, what felt like, an eternity. He looked down at his wife; her breathing was heavy, and she gazed at him lovingly with half lidded eyes. He ran a finger along the edge of her face.

"Follow me."

He grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him, down the stone steps and to the side, upwards, past the bonfire within the small, reclusive chamber. He crossed the bridge with the bell, and jumped over some rubble. He turned, offering her his hand as he pulled her up. She saw a ladder to the left of the small, open corridor. He motioned her to follow, as he began to climb the ladder.

Scarlet's mind was scattered. She lingered halfway between an unbridled desire and her rational side telling her to stop. She did not belong there…her presence being a perversion to his world.

But was it? A voice entered her head.

 _Quit over-thinking shit so much and get up here._

She laughed out loud, climbing the ladder the rest of the way. Randull was to the side, shedding his armor at a record pace. She glanced in front of her and froze.

"It's dead." He tossed his breastplate on the ground and started to unlatch his leggings. She cautiously pulled herself up, tilting her head as she took in the sight of the dead dragon in front of them. Randull turned to her, his eyebrow raising.

"Does it bother you?" His loins throbbed again, and he gritted his teeth; this was far worse than any torture he could remember. His eyes took in the feminine figure in front of him, still entirely too clothed.

"No, it's just…something, isn't right." She felt hands slide along her waist, grabbing the hem of her shirt.

"You're right, something isn't right. You're still dressed." He placed a kiss on the nape of her neck, and she chuckled, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt off, tossing it to the side. His hands immediately returned, and he gently felt along her breasts, while his mouth remained on her neck. He would occasionally nip at the delicate skin, causing her to gasp.

She closed her eyes, sighing from the feel of him touching her skin. Her eyes slowly opened, and her body went rigid. She snatched his wrists.

"Randull." Her voice came out as a hard whisper. He looked up, a line of spit lingering between her neck and his mouth. His posture stiffened, and he glanced to his left, spotting his sword and shield, buried underneath his armor.

A large, stone hammer fell. He grabbed her arm, throwing her behind him as he dodged, rolling by his weapon. He managed to grab the hilt, dodging again as the hammer swung horizontally.

"Havel! Stop!"

The former knight swung his legendary hammer again, taking a great leap forward. Randull rolled to the side, barely escaping from having his head smashed. He held his sword with both hands, a weak attempt to block a fatal blow. The sharp stones from the ancient floor had embedded themselves in his skin, and fresh blood ran down from his knees.

Fire flew out of Scarlet's hands. Her loose hair fluttering in a red mess behind her, swirling with the false currents created by her pyromancies.

"Fire won't work!" He scrambled backwards, getting whacked in the back with Havel's shield, after a poor attempt to dodge behind. He leapt ahead, trying to create distance, his pursuer not letting up.

Scarlet closed her eyes, focusing on her inner self. She envisioned a bright flame, the reddish glow…bright and vibrant. Slowly, it began to darken, until it was nothing but blackness, flickering wisps of white on the edges, within the void. She opened her eyes, noting that her arms were covered in a swirling, black mist, spreading out in a languid, flame.

She began to sprint forward, narrowing her sights on the man ahead. Randull was sprawled on the ground, turned slightly upwards, his arm out, pleading to the corrupted bishop.

"Havel!"

The large hammer rose in the air, preparing to splatter the intruder before him. Scarlet's hand made contact with his back. The black flame sizzled, as she reached forward, grabbing at his vital organs. She yanked backwards, pulling whatever she grasped with her. Fleshy remains fell to the ground.

The larger hammer fell to the side, and Havel wavered, before finally crumbling to the ground. His dark, red blood oozed out, seeping into the cracks below.

Randull looked up at his wife. Her hair was tangled; her bare, upper torso was covered in blood. Bits of flesh were stuck to her left arm. A blackness covered her eyes, and he watched as she closed them, willing the dark mist to spread across her skin, burning off the blood and gore, until only ivory remained. The mist faded, and she opened her eyes.

He turned towards Havel, pulling himself up and walking to the corpse. He rolled it over, his fingers finding the edge of the helmet. Hands grabbed his.

"Don't." He looked at her with confusion. She shook her head. "You have suffered enough, fy nghariad." She reached out, grabbing the edge of his chin in a sign of affection. Her hands moved to his shoulders, helping him to his feet. "Come…"

* * *

"I couldn't help but notice that your shirt is on backwards."

Karla looked at her with an amused expression. Scarlet sighed, pulling her arms in the sleeves, and rotating her tunic. She shook her head. "Unfortunately, that wasn't _all_ that was backwards. We were interrupted by one of the remaining denizens…someone he knew, from long ago."

Karla frowned, turning her gaze back to the fire. "Perhaps a bloodletting is the best course of action. You seemed destined to not be destined." She snorted, entertained by her play on words.

Something bright flashed in her eyes, and Scarlet squinted, moving her head to the side. The sun reflected off the large bell outside of the chamber. She knew what was to come, and dreaded it. Ornstein was nowhere to be found; she could only think of one explanation.

 _He will surely be slaughtered against the first born._

"Your silence is deafening. Pray, tell this witch what occupies your thoughts?"

"We are too weak to attempt this foe. We should return to the shrine, and press further into Lothric."

"By ' _we_ ', I presume you are referring to Randull."

Scarlet grinned at her cocky friend. Karla knew nothing of what remained on these sacred, perverted grounds. However, she felt it was for the best. "Perhaps… Shall we round them up?"


	17. Chapter 17

Warning: NSFW. Mostly smutty, and slightly sappy. I'm beginning to tie the DLCs into the story. Dark Souls is a confusing series, and the Ringed City seemed to create more questions than answers. It also made me feel like I was playing Bloodborne, for some strange reason.

* * *

"You ever wonder what wax feels like all over?" He winked at her.

She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just dip your head in it."

He gave her a mischievous grin, as he walked towards the large, stone basin full of liquid wax. They were on the second level of the Archives, slowly making their way towards the castle's highest point, occasionally stopping to search through the numerous texts that lined the shelves along the way. He glanced to his wife.

Her eyes snapped open. " _No_. Is that all you can think about?"

"For the most part, yes." He tilted his head, giving her a sly smile. "Don't act as if it hasn't been on your mind, as well."

She huffed in irritation, motioning at him to kneel in front of the basin. She looked past him down the pathway, across the large wooden bridge that connected the upper portion of the Archives. The next level above was only a fraction of the size, however, she was eager to find Orbeck. He still had not returned to the shrine…

Randull rolled his eyes. Her thoughts had become even easier to read. As much as she would struggle, he could pull whatever he wanted to know without much effort. Unfortunately, it worked both ways.

He held his breath and dunked his head into the warm wax. The liquid began to pour into an available crevice, filling up his ears. He felt hands pull him back up. A muffled voice was speaking, and her finger began to chip away at his left ear, while the other worked on freeing his nostrils.

"You don't have to dunk your _entire_ head, you know. Just the top."

He forced a grin, breaking some of the wax around his lips. She made a few wiping motions, sending a series of cream flakes to the ground. She began to clear the area around his eyes.

 _Eyes occluded by wax…_

Her mind drifted, as she stared into space towards the side, her hands lingering in the air by his face. He grabbed them, pulling them towards his chest and intertwining their fingers.

"What is it?"

She blinked a few times, then shook her head. "Nothing…it was nothing."

He reached up, running his finger along the edge of her face. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and pulled her close, capturing her lips with his for a few seconds, before releasing his hold. She began spitting pieces of wax out.

"Asshole…" She stood back up, wiping at her mouth. He laughed, pulling himself to his feet. The wax had begun to itch, and he grabbed the hilt of his sword, eager to move onward.

"Let's go find your arrogant tutor, so I can get this shit off my head." He frowned, turning to her. "Wait, why am I the only one with wax?"

She gave him a mischievous grin. "Because you didn't protest when I asked."

They moved along, running in between rows of bookshelves and stepping over the scattered corpses of thieves they had disposed of earlier. The mangled corpse of a large-hatted sage was in the corner; an arrow protruding from the center of its skull.

One of the Archives remaining denizens appeared from behind a stack of books, raising their candle up in preparation of launching a spell. Randull stepped forward, bashing the old priest with his shield, and turning it horizontally, slamming the sharp edge into their throat. Their head immediately severed, rolling off to the side, as the almost blackish blood continued to splatter against the wall.

Scarlet walked over the twitching body, squinting her eyes to glance at the texts on the nearby bookshelves. Such horrors no long phased her; she had become immune. She kept a good distance from the cursed stacks, not eager to have her mind assaulted by the painful grasps of an ancient and wicked magic. She rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks.

Orbeck sat, slumped over on a large, ornate chair. Books and scrolls were scattered in front of him. The smell of death lingered, and she cautiously walked over to her old teacher. Her hand grasped the cold shoulder of the corpse, and she took her first real look at his face.

"So Yuria was right…"

Scarlet's eyes glanced up to Randull, who had positioned himself on the other side of Orbeck. "Maybe in the sense that he was hollowed, but I do not believe he desired to take your rightful title. Knowledge was his ultimate goal." She looked back down at Orbeck, her eyes watering a bit. "One he seems to have finally found, at the end."

Randull frowned, looking around the area they found themselves in. He heard the rattle of metal, and glanced up, seeing a few heavily armored black knights patrolling the balcony above. They had managed to find a short cut back to the entrance of the grand Archives. However, there had been a side room on the lower level that had struck his curiosity.

Scarlet let go of Orbeck's cold shoulder. She glanced over the open texts in front of him, along the pile of books on his side. Her eyebrows furrowed; he had gone insane. However, some of the texts seemed useful, and she picked up a few, while tucking a scroll under her arm.

"Back to the shrine, or would you like to settle in the archives for a while longer? We have cleared out much of it, and it should pose little to no threat."

She stuck her hip out, looking at the bottle of estus that hung off the side. The contents barely moved; still full to the brim. "Let's stay here. That room you're so interested about below should provide an adequate area for respite."

Randull moved ahead, grabbing at his head as he tried to loosen the wax bits that were still caught in his hair. It would, eventually, melt and dissipate, but the process took _entirely too long_.

They crossed the bridge, back towards where the decapitated priest still laid. Scarlet busied herself with keeping all the items in her hands steady. Her eye caught the glimpse of bluish shimmer. She blinked, looking in the direction; only a wall. She shook her head, thinking nothing more of it.

The door had been covered by an illusion that had shattered when the priests head rolled through it. The deformed face still held a contorted expression of agony, blankly staring at the two responsible for its death. A broken, wooden door filled in the stone frame. Randull grabbed the handle, jumping back as the entire door fell to the ground, splitting off into ragged planks.

"Apparently, this wasn't a popular location."

She chuckled, moving past him into the room. To the side were a few crates, and she haphazardly dropped the contents in her arms on top. She rotated her shoulder cuffs, walking around to take note of what was stashed within. The room appeared to be large; the wooden floor planks worn with time, splintering at the edges. Along the edges were more bookshelves. Parchment littered the area, and piles of degrading books were pushed up against every available edge. Ancient metal objects, used to track the celestial movements, were propped up on a few tables. She leaned close to the one near here, noticing the irreversible damage to the structure.

Randull stepped forward. Something seemed off, and he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He saw Scarlet return to her scattered texts, picking up a book, flipping through the pages. He frowned; usually she was much more observant than him, in things of this 'nature'. In fact, her mind had seemed scattered ever since their return from Archdragon Peak.

Something flashed out of the corner of his eye, and he instinctively raised his shield. A large, frosted sword collided with the shields edge, producing vivid sparks as the metal clashed. He pushed forward, swinging his shield and stumbling his foe, he slashed at the Boreal Knight in front of him.

The creature howled, spewing forth a frigid cloud that surrounded him. Randull felt his skin split; the coldness seeping into him. He gritted his teeth, and stepped forward, thrusting his sword in between the breastplate and pauldrons of his adversary. He felt the hilt immediately turn frigid, and he yelled, shaking as he kept his hand on the sword, using his dead weight to drive it in further.

The knight screeched, knocking Randull back and into a book shelf. Crumbling texts fell on his head, and his eyes briefly rolled in the back of his head. He groaned, and started to blindly reach for his sword, disorientated; the sword was still in the knight.

He felt a soothing warmness begin to spread. The cold chill reversed, being replaced with a comforting rejuvenation. He glanced up, seeing Scarlet sitting on the edge of the table with her legs crossed; a book in her lap. Her hand was engulfed in a flame, aimed towards him. Her eyes never left the text. The flame disappeared, and she used the same hand to turn a page.

He looked over at the knight, crawling like a wounded animal on the floor. Its blue blood kept leaking from where his sword was embedded. It eventually pulled itself into the corner, breathing its last. A low shimmer of frost covered the fresh corpse. Randull stood up, walking over and placing his foot on the chest, yanking his frozen sword out. The fire spell Scarlet had cast kept the frost at bay, eventually evening the temperature of the metal. He sheathed it, walking towards his wife.

He stopped, standing in front of her, leaning in. "Find something particularly interesting?"

She hummed, shrugging her shoulders. "No, not really. Why do you ask?" Her eyes never left the page.

He grabbed the edge of her chin, lifting her face up so she was looking directly at him. "I only assumed, since you seemed keen to let me die."

Her eyes glanced to the dead knight in the corner, then back at him. Her shoulders shrugged again. "You're capable." She moved her head out of his grasp, resuming her reading.

He sighed, and began to unlatch his armor, laying it on top of a crate next to the table. He shook his head, as a few more chunks of wax fell to the floor. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get rid of what he could. He noticed a stone feature poking out behind a bookshelf. He walked to it, lifting his leg up and giving it a decent kick. The wooden furniture split, causing a massive amount of thick dust to cloud the air. Once settled, he saw the remnants of a small fireplace. He glanced to Scarlet.

"Yes, I'll light a fire for you." She turned another page.

* * *

He was sitting in front of the fire, his legs crossed underneath him, as he leaned his head forward. Melted wax rolled down his temples, and he used a cloth in his hand to wipe it off. Next to him was a decent sized pile of wax covered rags.

He felt something heavy be placed on the floor behind him. A warm body flushed up against his, and pale hands came into view. He lifted his head back.

Beautiful green eyes stared back into his, a sweet smile on her face. She held out a cup in her hand.

"Let me help you. It's only fair." She put an empty bucket in front of him, and pushed his shoulders forward. He closed his eyes as warm water was poured over his head. Fingers began to massage his scalp. He groaned, content, relishing in the wonderful feeling.

Scarlet wove her fingers through his hair, watching as the off-white colored wax dripped into the pail below them. She noticed his breathing relax, and she poured another cup of water over his head, resuming her comforting touch.

"I am beginning to think that you may not have been the selfish lover that you appear to be at first glance. It seems that no woman chooses to spend time with you, outside of a quick liaison."

He frowned, keeping his eyes closed. Even in his previous life, those he vowed himself to were cold; unaffectionate. His thoughts continued further, a realization springing forth.

"Perhaps, that is why I find myself unsure with you, even though my eagerness would tell otherwise. Will you despise me after? I do not think I could continue to exist if that were the case…"

Her hands kept their hypnotic rhythm, working their way down to his neck and shoulders. He tensed when she came across a generous sized knot in his muscles.

"Then they were fools and unworthy. One I know, in particular, was…and still is."

He grinned, stretching his neck out further. "That…is something I would have _never_ expected you to say."

She chuckled, working her way around his knotted shoulders. Her eyebrows scrunched. "Do your muscles still ache without the ring?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. However, I imagine it would be difficult for you to do what you're doing now with dried up, toughened skin."

She bit her lip, letting her hands drop further, working their way along his spine. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt, lifting it off his head and tossing it to the side. He turned himself around to face her, giving her a look of bewilderment mixed with excitement. She chuckled, tucking some hair behind her ear.

She pressed against him slightly, pushing his torso back. He found himself being propped up on his elbows, gazing at the top of her head. Her mouth ran hot, tantalizing kisses down his chest and over his abdomen. Her fingers eased themselves around the loose band of his trousers, as they tugged at the worn material.

His hand delicately ran along the hair that covered her face, moving it to the side so he could see. Her tongue slid slowly up the shaft, until she took him in her mouth. A loud moan erupted from his mouth, and he closed his eyes, trying to control his hips from thrusting on their own accord.

His fingers wound themselves in her hair, urging her mouth to change from the slow and languid pace that was driving him insane. Her tongue wrapped around his erection, and she allowed her teeth to lightly graze the skin. She moaned, tightening her lips around him as she slowly eased to his head. His hips thrusted forward, and he grabbed her hair, trying to pull her off.

"I'm close." His breathing was heavy, and she felt him shake a little, as he tried to calm himself.

She pushed her torso up; a seductive grin on her lips. She tossed her shirt off, and wiggled out of her pants. He found himself incapable of doing anything except watching; his body still clinging to the edge. His erection throbbed producing some wetness at the tip. She moved forward, her arms on each side of his head, as she positioned herself over him.

His hands instinctively found the curve of her hips, and he helped ease her down. She hissed, stiffening a bit. He held her where she was; his arms trembling from the conflicting urges of desire and the fear of hurting her.

Her eyes opened, and she gave him a weak smile. "It has…been a while." She gritted her teeth, and let her body fall. She knelt on top of him, her hands braced on the floor, remaining still for a few moments, giving her body enough time to adjust. Slowly, she rocked her hips forward.

The movements became easier, and she quickly found herself moving at a faster pace, using her knees to control the pressure and rhythm. She felt him swell inside her, and he grabbed her hips, holding her down as he attempted to take over. She locked her ankles over his legs, immediately stopping. Her hand wiped some sweat off his forehead.

"No."

He kept still, allowing her to remain in control. He felt himself nearing, and gritted his teeth, trying to keep himself from falling off the edge. He felt her become wetter, and her walls tightened. He looked up, placing his hands on the sides of her waist, helping to keep her upright.

Suddenly, her back arched, and he saw her face contort in pain. His body went along its own accord, spilling inside of her against his will. He felt something cold seep into him. He veins felt fuller…his blood thicker. He heard a strangled whimper, and caught her as she collapsed on top of him. He slipped out, and quickly rolled to his knees, cradling her in his arms.

Her breathing was shallow, and she was covered in a cold, sweat. Her eyelids fluttered, giving a glimpse of the whiteness underneath. She began to convulse, and quickly lost consciousness.

* * *

The arrow landed in the middle of the previous one, splitting it in half. She lowered the bow.

"Nice shot, girl. Maybe there's some hope for you after all."

She glanced at Eygon, a partial smirk on her face. "Coming from you, I will take that as the highest compliment I have ever received."

He laughed, lifting his heavy helmet off, and propping his hammer against the wall. They were back in the ruined arena. Scarlet was practicing with the Darkmoon bow, as she had done many times before.

"How are you feeling?"

She walked towards her target, assessing her shots. "The best way I can describe it…is thin. Like I have been stretched to my breaking point, then left to dangle in the wind."

She looked at her hand, trying to will a flame. All that came was a small flicker, before it quickly extinguished itself. She sighed, grabbing the arrow and giving it a good yank.

Eygon looked back at the shrine. "I notice the idiot has been avoiding you."

"He is having difficulties accepting the newly discovered _nature_ of our binding." She glanced to Eygon. "Not that I blame him, I would have handled it similarly."

He chuckled, turning his head back towards her. "Well, seeing you two suddenly appear naked was quite unexpected."

"I gave too much. I was afraid that would happen, but I admit, I felt guilty for hoarding them for so long." Her eyes narrowed on the knight of Carim. "Why are you here, my friend? It cannot be for simple conversation."

He grinned. "I came to inform you that he has returned with Prince Lothric's head. It seemed to be quite an important event, in which you would, typically, include one's spouse in."

She began sprinting towards the shrine, her bow in hand. A low, feminine voice rang in the air.

"Noble Lords of Cinder. The fire fades...and the lords go without thrones. Surrender your fires...to the true heir. Let him grant death...to the old gods of Lordran, deliverers of the First Flame."

Her sights fell upon Randull, standing in the middle of the shrine. Flames covered the remains of each Lord of Cinder. She glanced to Ludleth; nothing but ashes below his crown. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked at her husband below.

"Randull."

He glanced up, turning from the Firekeeper who was patiently positioned next to the central bonfire. His armor reflected the flames, casting eerie images as he ascended the stairs towards her. She saw the wisps of embers on the edges of the cloth of his armor. He stood facing her, his features shrouded by his helmet.

"I need to show you something." He gently grabbed her arm, pulling her after him. They hurried down the cliff, towards the arena, passing Eygon along the way, who offered Randull nothing more than an irritated grunt. He brought her to the bonfire, clasping his hand around the hilt. She watched as the image of the crumbling arena disappeared. Randull stood, motioning her to follow him.

She glanced around. They were in a chapel of sorts. Paintings of a woman littered the ground and walls. She looked to the corner, seeing the same woman sitting upon a wooden chair. Her posture was rigid, and she emanated an unnerving calmness. The woman's eyes never strayed from looking forward, taking no interest in the other occupants of the room.

Scarlet followed Randull up the ladder to the side. An attic room appeared, with a large, stained glass window in the back. A little girl was perched upon a high seat in front of a canvas. Her hair was abnormally long, pooling to the floor in a large pile. Feet swung around, and she gleefully greeted Randull. Her black eyes glanced to Scarlet

"I feel the scent of ash upon thee, as well. Thou'st is bound to the Ashen One; as such, I will tell thee all. I wish to paint a picture. Of a cold, dark, and very gentle place. One day, it will make someone a goodly home."

The strange girl kicked her feet back and forth in delight, motioning her arms to signify the large canvas in front of her.

Randull removed his helmet; a look of guilt and regret etched into his face. He quickly turned from her. She reached out, cupping his cheeks in her hand, bringing his head back towards her.

"Will you stop? I knew it was going to happen."

His eyes watered, and he shook his head. "No…that was…it is all my fault."

Her hand moved underneath his chin, and she nicked it, giving him a sly expression. "Are you saying that I'm terrible in the bedroom?"

He stared at her blankly for a few moments, before a small grin began to spread on his lips. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Grabbing her hand and kissed her palm. "You are vile, woman."

"I admit, it was probably not the best plan I had, however…" She glanced around the attic, moving her hands in a circular motion. "It appears you have been quite busy since I gifted you with unbridled power." She gave him a coy look.

He chuckled, grabbing the back of his neck as he began to pace. "I am beginning think that you might be correct with your intuition; there is another way."

She glanced down the ladder, making out the edge of the woman's dress down below.

"Yuria's eldest sister…she no longer follows the Sable church." Scarlet turned to him, her eyes wide in shock. "This is the painted world of Ariandel." He motioned at the child. "And this is the woman who creates worlds."

Scarlet's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You think…your world, even mine, that they are mere paintings?"

"Perhaps. How would one tell if they were or were not part of a painted world? Here, it is limited. Visitors frequently travel in and out of its boundaries. What if our worlds are the same, only on a grander scale?"

He grabbed her hands, running his thumbs along her knuckles. "You said so yourself that the ages of Fire and Dark are coming to an end. Any future attempts for igniting the flame, or heralding dark, will only prolong the inevitable for a short duration of time." He nodded towards the strange child. "Perhaps, all we need to do is let it fall, then paint a new world from the ashes?"

"And if someone decides to burn the painting?"

He motioned towards Sister Friede, below them. "It seems to be a perplexing task, to say the least. The physical bounds of this painting are only linked from a thin scrap of canvas. It appears that once these worlds are created, they forever exist, unless burned from within."

He took her hand, pulling her towards the ladder. He began to descend, jumping to the floor and kneeling in front of the bonfire. Scarlet quickly followed.

"Where are we going?"

He turned to her, as the image of the chapel began to fade. "Archdragon Peak."

A familiar, small open chamber appeared, and Scarlet felt the cold, crisp air of the mountain. She shivered, keeping closer to the fire.

"I highly encourage you to avoid this foe. It is not necessary to engage him."

Randull began to unlatch his armor, placing it in a pile next to the fire. "I know, however, what he possesses may help us in our journey." He walked to Scarlet, grabbing at her shirt, lifting it off her. "That is not why I brought you here, though."

She reached out for her shirt, attempting to yank it back. "Are you mad?!" She scowled at him. "It's freezing…"

"My sanity was lost, long ago." He lifted her up, pushing her up against the stone wall. His hands eased her trousers off, and he tossed them to the side. Grabbing her legs, he wrapped them around his hips. He held her close and jerked forward, using the wall to steady himself. Her arms tightened around his shoulders, and she gasped into the side of his ear.

He kept still, turning his head to face her. "I am sorry…but you're too weak to travel with me...as you are at this moment." He kissed her, feeling his erection throb inside. He grinned. "Maybe not _too_ sorry." He slowly eased himself in and out, listening to the sounds of her erotic mewls. He reached in between them, letting his thumb brush across the sensitive nub, slowly increasing the intensity. Her breathing became more erratic, and she lurched forward, crying out as her walls clenched down on him. He began thrusting inside her at a quicken pace. Feeling his release near, he focused his mind. The Dark Sign flashed, and he felt his power draining, struggling to keep a portion of it within him.

A few minutes passed, and he opened his eyes. His wife was covered in an attractive blush, still breathing heavily. He tilted his head down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth and biting it in a teasing fashion. She giggled.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she looked at her hand, wrapped around her lover's neck. She held her palm out. A low flame formed, and she focused, as it traveled up her arm, spreading slowly, until it eventually encompassed both of them. A warm feeling spread, and she sighed, content.

He groaned; his body beginning to struggle to adjust to the sudden loss of half his sigils. His knees finally gave out, and they both crashed to the floor.

* * *

A large soul appeared from his satchel. He placed it in her hand.

They were in the painting of Ariandel again. It was the only place he felt safe to bring her, away from the godly machinations and fanatics eager to uphold their Lords will, regardless the price. Scarlet was wearing armor akin to the Boreal Knights, except fitted to a more feminine form. A bluish veil hung over her face, and cascaded behind her, fluttering in the cold breeze. He could barely make out her facial features.

"What is this for, fy nghariad?"

He smiled, reaching beneath her shrouded helmet and running his thumbs along the edge of her cheeks.

"We are going to heal our sigils, and pacify this nightmare."

Her eyes widened. "Wait… _what_?"

"The Dark is not something that either of us should be bound to."

Scarlet looked at the soul in her hands. "Yuria will be infuriated. She may try to kill us."

"Then we will kill her, it concerns me not. The Firekeeper is able to reach within us, and extract the sigils." His eyes narrowed on her. "She has eyes now…she has seen how a world of Fire, and Dark, ends. Her doubts align to ours."

Scarlet frowned; she resented bringing the fragile and kind girl into the middle of this.

"The resources required to do that are great, and will require a great many souls. Please, give her this and purge the curse."

He went to stand up, and she reached out, snatching his arm. He froze, looking at her with concern.

"Will this break out binding? Will I return to my world?"

His head tilted, as he continued to stare at her. His gray eyes were cold and intense; he was reading her thoughts. They suddenly softened.

"No. That is a magic that exists outside of the influence of the Lord Souls." He smiled, and leaned forward, capturing her lips with his briefly, then rocking back on his feet, as he stood up. "It is refreshing to know that you no longer wish to sever it."

"Yes, but, I would much rather take you to mine. Plus, won't this weaken us, _substantially_?"

He put his helmet back on, stopping long enough to give her a smirk. "And miss out on the excitement of _this_ world? Never." He laughed, letting it drop as he walked towards the bonfire. "It may, but the power tied to the sigils are fundamentally a characteristic of our Dark Sign." He looked back at her. "The Dark Sign will always remain, for that is a gift from our pigmy ancestors, and inherent to our humanity. The sigils were born as a perversion of the Lords themselves, and their attempt to oppress that which they see as a threat to their supreme rule."

He nodded towards her, as he grabbed the hilt of the coiled sword. "Besides, I'm tired of wearing this fucking ring."

She laughed.


End file.
